


Moon-Child

by kristhaswaggerdaddy



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst, Character Death, Feudal Era, First Time, M/M, Mystery, Rimming, Supernatural Elements, before you alarm yourself at major character death, before you alarm yourself at the underage tag, it isn't kyungsoo or jongin, it isn't what you think
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-29
Updated: 2017-08-29
Packaged: 2018-12-21 07:49:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 51,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11939601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kristhaswaggerdaddy/pseuds/kristhaswaggerdaddy
Summary: An old fairy tale comes to life in modern times. Kyungsoo and Jongin find themselves caught right in the middle.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SteamedBaozi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SteamedBaozi/gifts).



逢ふこともなみだに浮かぶわが身には死なぬ薬も

_“To meet never more...tears of sadness overflow deep within my heart; what good is this draught of immortality? All is but dust in the wind.”_

 

Kyungsoo’s alarm clock rang at precisely 6AM. His hand came down upon it quickly, turning it off. Its incessant beeping ceased, and Kyungsoo sat up in bed at once.

Outside his window, the rest of the city was slowly waking. Lights were coming on, some already lit in high-rise apartment buildings. There were few cars on the road, but that would change in an hour. The city was just starting to shake off sleep, while Kyungsoo was already wide awake.

He got out of bed, scrubbing away the groggy feeling in his eyes.

Kyungsoo couldn’t sleep at all last night, too antsy to drift off. There were too many thoughts crowding in his head for him to relax, and he knew he could take the medication his psychologist prescribed for him, but he chose not to. He didn’t want to be dependent on a drug, and they always made him feel a touch too tipsy for his liking.

Besides, the drugs made it difficult for him to wake up, and then he’d mess up his entire day; _that_ , he could not have today.

Because as mediocre today seemed, just another Monday, it was Kyungsoo’s first day of work.

Kyungsoo hopped into the shower as soon as he finished brushing his teeth. He couldn’t help thinking that it was strange, for a twenty-seven year old like him to only have these first-day anxieties right now. Many people his age would’ve been in his place a long time ago, probably accustomed to a sense of routine by now. As he slathered soap over his arms and chest, he couldn’t help thinking about the life he could’ve lived if he wasn’t… the way he was.

Kyungsoo shrugged that thought off. It wasn’t time to doubt himself. He could only move forward, which was why he was awake at 6AM anyway.

He stepped out of the bathroom when he was done, rubbing his hair with a towel. He caught sight of the clock on the wall just down the hall; 6.15AM. Time to prep his coffee machine so it would be ready later.

He padded into the kitchen, turning on the machine with the push of a few buttons. It began whirring, and he returned to his bedroom to dress.

Kyungsoo had already prepared a matching outfit for every day of the week, attempting to ease his anxieties about going out into the world. At the very least, he could assure himself in the fact that he was well dressed.  

He took Monday’s outfit out of his closet and set it on the bed, smiling to himself. The stripes on his light blue shirt complemented the dark blue of his blazer and slacks well. Hopefully, he’d make an impression on whoever he would meet today.

In that vein, he also wondered how he was going to avoid touching others when it was normal to offer and be offered a handshake these days. The loud humming of the hair dryer drowned out his thoughts a little, but when he was done, he still couldn’t answer his own question. _How?_ he asked himself. He laid the hair dryer on his dresser, and worked a comb over his hair, staring into his reflection.

_How?_

He could bow to others. Kyungsoo learned that most people went with the flow set by whoever initiated the conversation first. Like if someone held their hand out and said hello, then the other person would have to shake their hand.

Applying that to Kyungsoo’s situation, he could bow first, and cut the handshake out entirely.

But things were rarely so predictable. Some people may insist on a handshake after bowing. Some still found bowing to be a little stiff in terms of mannerisms. In which case the ball would be in Kyungsoo’s court and he’d have to be the one adhering to the flow.

The thought of shaking someone else’s hand gave him shudders.

He dreaded it, prayed for bodily contact to never occur because it was never easy for him. It never was, and despite that, Kyungsoo was still here in the early morning hours, putting on his clothes and doing his hair to get dressed for work. He was doing all this even though he knew full well bodily contact would bring him too close to strangers.

Why, he couldn’t say. Mostly it was out of necessity. He couldn’t depend on his family forever. But he could if he insisted on it, and lived frugally. It wasn’t impossible.

Another reason, a smaller, less braver one, was pure curiosity about the world, and what it had to offer. All his life he’d had to hide his ability, setting himself aside from others because he couldn’t be too close to them.

But he knew the world was so much bigger than the four walls of his bedroom, than his small family of four. He had already moved out from his parents’ place, around the same time his brother did. It felt like it was time to take the next step.

Kyungsoo looked down at his hands when he was fully dressed, then glanced at his reflection.

He could try all his might to hide, wear long sleeves and hide almost every inch of his skin but it still would not change what was inside, and that was his ability to be able to feel other’s emotions at a single brush.

 _How unfortunate_ , Kyungsoo thought, not for the first time, looking at his exposed hands. How unfortunate to be cursed with something that was so impossible to avoid.

Outside, the coffee machine dinged, signalling that coffee was ready.

He straightened his collar once more, and headed out of his room. Kyungsoo poured himself a mug, adding sugar and sipping at it tentatively. He liked it burning hot; it made him feel fresh and awake. There was nothing quite like a steaming hot cup of coffee in the morning. Suddenly, his first day of work didn’t seem so dark and dire anymore.  

Maybe avoiding human touch wasn’t going to be too hard, he thought. He’d gone grocery shopping countless times without touching anyone and accidentally reading their auras and emotions. Of course, any time it happened, it was hard to pretend like nothing had occurred and everything was just fine. Still, he was tired of limiting himself.

Surely, there was more to life than this.

-

Kyungsoo arrived at the office at 7.30AM sharp. He spoke to the girl at the counter on the ground floor, and she immediately sent him up to the 28th floor with a nametag that had his name and picture printed on it.

He couldn’t tell which was more bizarre, the fact that he had something tangible tying him to a company for the rest of the unforeseeable future, or the fact that he was working in one of the most swankiest buildings in the Gangnam district. If anyone had told him he’d be doing this less than a year ago, he honestly would’ve laughed in their faces.

He was going to work under a certain Kim Jongdae in the advertising department of a company selling timber for the next few months. Kyungsoo didn’t know what to expect from the department’s staff; they could be loud, they could be extremely business-driven and professional till the end.

And he had been interviewed in the human resources office, so it didn’t give him much of an idea about how the people were going to be like, or how it was going to look.

However, when the elevator doors slid open he was pleasantly surprised to find the office was impeccably designed and decorated.  

Glass walls rose on one side, water cascading down like a waterfall. Ahead of him, workspaces were divided equally throughout the space. Most were empty, and the arrangement looked like counters at a bank. Rustic touches like grey stone tiles and dark wood panels fitted the walls on the right. Everything appeared up to date, as if recently renovated.

The entire atmosphere sadly, was instantly ruined when a guy ambled over at the arrival of the elevator and grinned at Kyungsoo.

“Hey. You’re the new guy, right?” he asked. The guy didn’t wear a nametag, but his dishevelled hair and unbuttoned shirt collar indicated that he was probably the troublemaker of the office.

“Yes, yes, I am. Do Kyungsoo,” he introduced himself and bowed slightly.

“Oh, he’s proper,” the guy remarked, more to himself than at Kyungsoo, “Hyeri, you know where Jongdae’s office is, right? I’m sure he’ll wanna meet this guy,” he said, and then winked at Kyungsoo. The receptionist giggled and hid behind her hair.

He then sauntered off into another direction, whistling away. _Didn’t even introduce himself_ , Kyungsoo thought.

As soon as she collected herself, the girl brought him to one of the workspaces on the right. He was shown into one that was only slightly larger than the rest, the simple arrangement of the furniture identical to the other workspaces. The desk, he noted, was a smooth slab of marble.

Behind the desk in the centre of the room was Jongdae, as the name plaque on his desk suggested. He was reading something when the girl knocked quietly and announced Kyungsoo’s arrival, “Do Kyungsoo here to see you.”

Jongdae blinked and looked up, horn-rimmed glasses perched on his nose. “Why, hello. Kyungsoo as in the new guy, right?” he smiled.

“In the flesh,” Kyungsoo bowed deeply. Jongdae gestured for him to enter the office and thanked Hyeri for showing Kyungsoo in.

“Hello, hello, take a seat,” Jongdae said, sounding awfully chipper for someone at work on a Monday at 8AM.

Kyungsoo did as he was told and set his briefcase on the ground beside his seat. Jongdae was rather tan up close, his hair swept neatly to one side. His hairdo made his cheekbones all the more prominent, as did the tidiness of his tailored suit. Jongdae’s face looked oddly rebellious, almost roguishly handsome.  

“I’m Jongdae,” he smiled at Kyungsoo, “Head of Marketing.” And then he held out a hand towards Kyungsoo.

He only had a split second to hesitate before he too reached out his hand, trying not to appear affected. Jongdae began talking again, but everything drowned out as his emotions seeped through their hands and into Kyungsoo.

Jongdae was in a good mood this morning, seemed to have a good impression on Kyungsoo so far. But there was something lodged deep inside of him, past the surface. Kyungsoo didn’t want to look too closely, but the connection remained when Jongdae didn’t pull away. There was a profound sadness and loss within Jongdae. It was like watching someone suffer from behind a thick wall of glass.

“Kyungsoo?” Jongdae called uncertainly.

Like fog clearing away for morning light, he blinked as if slowly waking. Jongdae’s face came back into focus as Jongdae’s emotions melted away.

“I-I’m sorry,” Kyungsoo blurted, releasing Jongdae’s hand, “what… were you saying something?”

“I was just saying that it’s been a while since we’ve had someone new,” Jongdae said, “don’t mind us if we’re a little stiff around you. Though you might be more nervous than I thought you were.”

He paused, perhaps waiting for Kyungsoo’s reaction. _Get yourself together_ , Kyungsoo thought. So he laughed, if not somewhat nervously. It seemed to diffuse the confusion in Jongdae, and another smile broke out on his face.

“Good that you’re laughing,” he remarked, “I was starting to think my jokes were bad.” 

“Oh no, no, that’s not what I was…” Kyungsoo hurried to say, only to realize he couldn’t explain what he’d just felt at a handshake.

“Relax, man,” Jongdae laughed this time, standing up and patting Kyungsoo on the shoulder. “Don’t have to be so tense around here. We’re an easy bunch compared to the people from other departments.” He gestured for Kyungsoo to follow as he left his desk. Kyungsoo shivered, half from relief of having narrowly escaped an awkward situation, and half from anticipation of more handshakes.

He was going to have bow more often and more prominently this time.

Jongdae took him around the entire floor, showing him some of the facilities like the pantry and the men’s room near the elevator. More employees started to show up, and they were a rather diverse bunch seeing as the marketing team and advertising shared the same floor.

There was Yixing, who hailed from China and was dressed well like Jongdae. He was Assistant Head of the department, but was friendly and told Kyungsoo to speak with him if he had any questions. He did not shake hands with Kyungsoo, thank God he was Chinese.  

Besides Yixing was Chanyeol, who stumbled out of the elevator without his tie on and a bun stuck in his mouth because he thought he was late for work. Apparently he was more than he looked, because he had made the last three marketing campaign a success. Kyungsoo was surprised to find out that Chanyeol had come up with a tagline that he recognized.

“A pleasure working with ya,” Chanyeol had drawled and snatched rather than shook Kyungsoo’s hand. Luckily, it was brief and Kyungsoo caught nothing more than a buzzing of energy, usually a sign of adrenaline blanking out one’s thoughts and feelings.

Next was Baekhyun and Minseok who were conversing with one another when Jongdae came over.

Minseok was the coffee nut at the office, holding a steaming paper cup of latte. He bowed slightly at Kyungsoo and gave him a brief once over glance. No handshakes were offered; Kyungsoo suspected Minseok was waiting for Kyungsoo to show his true colours before he got friendly. Kyungsoo was fine with that. 

On the other hand, it turns out Baekhyun was the guy who’d greeted Kyungsoo earlier without introducing himself. He offered his hand, as Kyungsoo already expected he would. Kyungsoo felt his curiosity, his uncertainty at his presence in the office. There wasn’t much else, which was a relief. At least he wasn’t feeling hostile towards Kyungsoo.  

After that, the rest in the office were a blur. Kyungsoo barely managed to note down everyone’s names and faces in the advertising department by the time he was brought to his workspace, which was empty save for some furniture and a notepad on his desk. Kyungsoo was left his own devices until 10AM, when the daily meeting would begin.

After gauging nearly everyone’s reaction towards him, Kyungsoo could more or less tell what was expected from him. Not too much dedication, because some were probably waiting to be promoted. But not too little either, because Jongdae was always in the office which meant he would always be able to keep an eye on everyone who was working for him.

 _It’ll be alright_ , he told himself. A marketing campaign was a group effort and so long as Kyungsoo pulled his own weight, he liked to think he’d be fine here.

*

 _まことかと聞きて見つれば言の葉を飾れる玉の枝にぞありける_ _◦_

_“I ventured to see if what I had heard was true, this jewelled branch with leaves so real. T'was nothing more than an empty promise.”_

 

Jongin stepped over a particularly large bulge of root, nearly slipping into a puddle of brackish mud. The trees in this forest grew wild with abandon, and he had to be very careful not to trip over anything.

Of course, that was easier said than done, considering that the canopy formed by the thick branches overhead blocked out most daylight and Jongin only had his powers to enlighten the way for him. Despite the bluish-lavender flames burning from his left hand, it was dark in the forest like it was late evening and not in fact, midday.

Regardless of the dank conditions, Jongin trekked forth past twisted trees covered in thick moss, thorny bushes and strange flowers blooming on the ground. Strange creatures would occasionally skitter before Jongin’s path, but nothing could stop him. It was better not to look too closely at things here anyway.

For this was the Forest of Illusion, a place where no mortal had ever come out alive. Many came to commit suicide over the years, and most would’ve succeeded. The aura of the place was hard to dismiss, an underlying evil and hopelessness laying beneath the smell of rotting trees.

Jongin counted himself lucky for being insusceptible to the whispers of the forest. Besides, suicide wasn’t on his to-do list today; it took far too much effort to kill a warlock anyway. He’d rather focus on his task at hand; looking for a cave amongst the trees.

He thought it was a joke at first, when Suho said there was someone who could help him gain his full powers. Someone who had been waiting for a long time to be freed unto the Earth. Jongin had been alive for a long time, and nothing with _that much_ power existed anymore. The world was being rid of its mysteries and mysticism, everything turning into nothing more but legend. At least, that was what he believed.

“She’s the Princess of the Heavens,” Suho had explained, his clawed fingers folded neatly on his lap as he stared blankly out the window of his large mansion, “and she calls out to anyone who can hear her. Can't you, Jongin? She calls in the night when the moon is full…”

As much as Jongin respected Suho as a renowned collector of vintage and magical items, he had always known Suho to be a little— well, kooky. It happened a lot with warlocks who lived past millennia or more, experiencing far too much for anyone in one lifetime. Still, Suho was extremely wise in result of his years and rarely spoke of nonsense.

“Who is she? What does she want?” Jongin had asked, humouring Suho.

“To be free,” Suho said simply, “she has been trapped for so long. Don’t you know the tale of the bamboo cutter?”

Jongin did know of it. Who didn’t? A fairy tale from long ago, when a bamboo cutter found a baby in the forest and raised her as his own, naming her Kaguya.

She grew into a beautiful woman, and rumours of her beauty spread until five suitors came with marriage proposals. However, she was not interested in marriage. To rebuff them, she had sent them to collect items that were near impossible to find; the robe of a fire-rat, the swallow’s cowrie shell, a bejewelled sprig from Horai Island, the begging stone bowl of Buddha and the jewel from a dragon’s neck.

The suitors, eager to please, attempted to complete their tasks but met terrible ends, or failed in obtaining the items. So famed was her beauty that even the Emperor himself wanted to marry Kaguya, but she still refused.

One summer night beneath the full moon, she was overcome with emotion and finally revealed that she did not belong to Earth and had to return home to the moon, where her true people dwelled.

The Emperor heard about this and sent guards to stop the moon people from taking her away. Their attempts to protect her were unsuccessful, and Kaguya left gifts for her family and the Emperor before she left. She gave him the elixir of life, which he threw away into Mount Fuji because he refused to live as an immortal if he could never see her again.

And then, to make the princess forget her worries, her handmaidens placed the celestial robe upon her shoulders. At once, her heart was set to ease and she returned to the moon to be with her people.

“Didn’t she return to the moon?” Jongin had asked.

“She did,” Suho had replied, “but there is more to the legend. She had returned to Earth one night and bathed in a spring. She was attacked, and sealed in a mirror somewhere on this Earth. Her powers have been diminished, and her celestial robe lost.”

“If this is the same princess we’re talking about, can’t her people help her?” Jongin had snorted. If they could take her away from Earth, then they could definitely break her free from a mirror. Suho had shaken his head at this.

“Don’t be foolish, Jongin, think. Her suitors were but mere mortals. The obstacles faced would’ve been too great, and her people have limited powers now that the celestial robe is gone. But she has whispered other ways to free her. The treasures that she sent her suitors to find; they are powerful enough to break her from her mortal trappings.”

Jongin had paused, processing that. “And you think these items can still be found, even today? Her suitors and moon people couldn’t do it. What makes you think any of us can?”

Suho’s green eyes gleamed as he spoke those words. “What if,” he said very slowly, “I told you I already found the celestial robe?”

That made Jongin stop completely. He wasn’t one for believing legends, but this was Suho and that robe was said to have many powers. It could take away sorrows, magnifying one’s own powers... But owning such a treasure had its downsides.

“I don’t think a robe would suit me,” Jongin said shortly, “and I’d probably own it for a few days at best, before someone tried to kill me for it. No, thanks, Suho.”

“It is not for you,” Suho replied easily, “it is for the princess. If you can bring it to her, Jongin, and free her…” he trailed off, seeming to lose his train of thought.

Jongin waited, and waited.

Finally, when he couldn’t bear it any longer, he asked, “What? What happens if I can free her?”

“Kaguya can take away your weakness,” Suho whispered, “she can show you true power.”

That was how Jongin came to the Forest of Illusion, searching for the cave that contained the mirror of life, which she was sealed in. Suho relayed all that Kaguya spoke to him, though most of it Jongin already knew from the fairytale.

There were five items he needed to collect; one which he’d be able to find in the same cave where the mirror was. He would then have to fly over to Japan and drop these items into the five lakes surrounding Mount Fuji to free her. But that wasn’t the only reason why Jongin was rustling through the forest; he had to strike a deal with Kaguya first.

_Jongin…_

He stopped in his tracks, dirt crunching beneath his shoes. Jongin allowed his flames to grow larger, hoping to illuminate whoever or _whatever_ it was out there. Fire crackled and flickered from his hands all the way up to his arms. There seemed to be nothing in the bleak darkness no matter how he strained to peer in the dark.

A little wary now, Jongin turned to look ahead again. However, something had changed.

Where there was no path before, roots and mud caking every possible surface, now there was a small path leading deeper into the forest. It was a blaze of light in the dark, completely clear of obstacles.

Jongin couldn’t see much of what was ahead of him, but he had an idea as to who might’ve cleared a path for him. Kaguya must’ve sensed that he was here for her.

So he followed the path, which took very little time. Previously, it had taken two hours just to walk a mile or so into the forest. But now that he knew where he was going, it didn’t even take fifteen minutes before the path ended in a shallow lake of clear blue water, its deep end disappearing into a large cave smackdab in the middle of the forest.

The cave was shaped like an hollowed out egg sunk halfway into the ground, with the lake pouring out of it. Nothing swam in the lake, he noticed, its unnatural blue brighter than any kind of water he’d ever seen. And the trees seemed to avoid it, giving the edge a wide berth.

The waters were probably toxic to all life forms, but Jongin would take his chances. If Kaguya could clear the way for him, she’d protect him from the toxicities of the lake.

Taking off his shoes, Jongin waded into the water slowly. He felt for the bottom at first, which felt like nothing more than soft sand. The water was cold, but bearable since it only came up to just above his knees. Hands flaring with fire, he went into the cave.

Inside, the forest’s aura fell away. It seemed to be lit with a dim light from an unknown source, and felt thick with the presence of another. Jongin felt like he was being watched from every direction, though he told himself it was just Kaguya, probably assessing him. After all, she didn’t take too kindly to the Emperor or any of her suitors.

She probably hated men. Jongin just hoped she wouldn’t make his life difficult.

Within minutes of wading through the lake and sending ripples in every direction, Jongin soon found the source of the bluish illumination in the cave. It came from a small altar, set with a gilded mirror.

Jongin approached it carefully, his heart thumping in his chest. This was the Mirror of Life from the legend, if the voices of the forest and Suho was right. He saw that it reflected nothing even though he was standing before it, just black. Strange, like everything else in this situation.

He wiped the surface clean of dust carefully with his sleeve. It was humbling to think that this came from a higher being than warlocks and humans. It probably came from another dimension if not Heaven.

And it reminded him that Kaguya too, was not of this world. It was crucial that he struck a bargain properly with the princess.

As soon as he stepped back, a light shone from the direction of the cave’s entrance and struck the mirror, filling the cave with a strange, white light. Jongin covered his eyes, the intensity of it too much. He could hear the mirror shaking on the altar, and when it ceased he cracked an eye open.

The light had all but faded away now, and the mirror no longer reflected darkness. Impossibly, a woman was staring back at Jongin, her features delicate and feminine. A faded five-pointed star hovered over the surface of the mirror; Jongin presumed it to be the spell that had trapped her in the first place.

“I am Princess of the Heavens, Kaguya,” she announced, ever so calmly in a clear voice. Jongin, unsure of how to behave in front of someone who apparently came from the moon, bowed in return.

“I am Kim Jongin, your… servant,” he answered.

“Servant?” she said with some interest, “that is interesting. I had assumed the half-demon, Suho, would come. Has he sent you in his place?” Jongin had to hold himself back from bristling at ‘half-demon’, a very old way of referring to warlocks as an insult.

“He sent me,” Jongin said instead, “because he is old, and is afraid he may not be able to complete the tasks that you have set. But I too, have reasons of my own for being here.”

She lifted an eyebrow. “Speak then, half-demon.”

Jongin took a deep breath. “You may refer to me as a half-demon, princess, but I am not an ordinary half-demon. My father is one of the High Princes of Hell, a fire demon, and my mother a human with faerie ancestry.

“Because she was borne from the relations of a human and a moon faerie, as a result, I am powerless every new moon. It is a trait passed down through the generations from the maternal side of the family, something that even my father’s blood cannot change.”

Kaguya regarded him with new interest. “So you require a full moon to fully utilize your powers?” she asked.

“Well, yes,” Jongin replied, “My abilities are amplified on nights with a full moon. But other nights, I am only as powerful as the next warlock and especially on a new moon, when fire burns me.”

“How convenient,” she replied casually, and looked up. Jongin followed her line of vision, and saw that the cave had no ceiling. Above him was a gaping hole revealing a night sky even though he knew full well it was still some hours to sunset. Glowing cherry blossom petals drifted down from an unknown source. Hung high in the sky was the full moon.

Before he even realized it, Jongin brought flames to both hands and threw balls of flame at the water surface.

The full moon usually strengthened his powers, allowing his flames to burn almost anything. And they did; they floated on the water surface like oil, sending shadows dancing on the walls of the cave. The purple of his flames refracted strange colours off the blue water.

“Is this an illusion of your work?” he asked, feeling a little breathless. Jongin found it exhilarating to know that Kaguya could work such mysterious acts.

“It can be more than illusion,” Kaguya breathed, “however, fire does not interest me. And if you heard my call, dozens of others could have heard me too. I see no reason why to strike a bargain with you.” This, Jongin was prepared for. He had packed away something special in case the occasion rose.

“Well, maybe this could change your mind,” Jongin said, and dug into his backpack. He brought out pink, glowing fabric, only needing to tug slightly for it to slide forth on its own.

The celestial robe floated towards the mirror, defying all laws of physics. Jongin cocked an eyebrow at Kaguya, who appeared to have changed her mind, as he’d expected.

“That’s the celestial robe,” she said, eyes widening. Jongin nodded, keeping a grip on it in case it floated too close to her mirror and Kaguya somehow managed to get her hands on his only piece of leverage.

“It is. And I could still free you, princess, but you would only be half the heavenly being you were without this. With your full moon now, of course, burning it wouldn’t be an issue—”

“Your problem cannot simply be fixed at the drop of a hat, half-demon,” she snapped, “it is in your bloodline. I cannot change it any more than you can be unborn.

“But,” she paused, “if you release me, I will become the eternal ruler of the night. The moon will never cease from the sky, and neither will it ever be less than whole. Time will stop, and your wish shall be granted for as long as I remain.”

Jongin considered her words. This was something both Suho and the legends failed to mention.

“Remain? ‘Time will stop’? You mean to freeze time?” he asked, unable to hide the incredulity in his voice. And how was Jongin and the rest of the world going to factor into that?

“Oh, yes,” Kaguya purred, “I mean to have my revenge, half-demon, on the mortals who thought they could hold me back. For all worlds in this dimension and the next, I will be their eternal ruler. All creatures subject to time shall be frozen forevermore. For half-demons like you, it should not be a problem. You can finally reign over the mortals who have kept your kind in hiding for so many years, when it is you who should make them bow to you…”

Jongin couldn’t say he wasn’t interested in that offer.

He remembered a time when he was younger, and the humans took away someone he cared about. He remembered water, lots of it in a deep lake. He remembered despairing at the moonless night sky, and the cold body in his arms.

“Tell me, half-demon,” she asked, as if able to read his thoughts, “when was the last time you felt like you could be yourself?”

Jongin snapped himself out of his thoughts. “You have a deal, princess. I will free you, and give you the celestial robe if you freeze time and make the full moon eternal.”

“Excellent,” her lips curled into a smile, “you’ll find the first treasure just under this mirror, half-demon. Until you find all five treasures, you serve me, and I you…”

The cave began to brighten once more. Jongin turned away from the mirror, and by the time he looked up from his arm, she was gone. The cave’s ceiling was now studded with stalactites hanging down heavily from the walls. Whatever illusion she’d cast with her presence, it was no longer there.

The mirror of life too reflected nothing but black again. And below it, just as the princess promised, was something in the water.

Jongin bent to pick it up; the first of the five treasures was a sprig, though not like one he’d ever seen before. It was around six inches, with small leaves and berries on it.

 _The bejewelled sprig_ , he realized. Some said it came from the mythical island of Horai, where heavenly beings resided and the trees grew jewels there. There was no sorrow on the island, no sadness or hunger; an eternal paradise.

Jongin felt at the berries with a hand and noticed that it was not berries at all, but rubies. The leaves were of delicate jade, made so finely that it appeared like a real leaf. Kaguya’s suitors had presented fakes to her, but this had to be the real thing.

Carefully, Jongin tucked the branch and the celestial robe into his backpack. There were only four treasures left to find now. 

*

 _限りなき、思ひに焼けぬ皮衣、袂かはきて、けふこそは着め_ _._ _なごりなく、燃ゆと知りせば皮衣、思ひの外に、置きて見ましを_ _◦_

_“The limitless heart of my love for you cannot burn this cloth of fur. My raiment sleeves dried of tears. Now on this day I don't._

_Could you have but known that it would burn so swiftly, this raiment of fur. You would not then have sat with such little show of concern.”_

 

“Did you hear about that nutjob robbing the museum last night?” Baekhyun clapped a hand on Kyungsoo’s shoulder. In that second, Kyungsoo felt Baekhyun’s burning urge to spill the latest news today. He tried his best to appear interested.

“No, what about it?” Kyungsoo murmured, sipping at his Arabica roast coffee. It was Kyungsoo’s second day of work, and everything was running smoothly so far.

He’d gotten to work on time, he made himself a drink in a flask so he could have it throughout the day… His office was starting to look good too after he added a few minor touches like a calendar, phone charger and some packets of instant coffee in his drawer. He was having some quiet time in the pantry when Baekhyun sauntered in with his Starbucks.

“Someone robbed the Cultural Museum last night, man. Did it alone in the early hours of the morning and all. They said he only stole a couple of stuff, though, but did a helluva lot damage for it. Torched the cameras, the glass case… then he torched his way through a cement wall when cops started blocking entrances,” Baekhyun waved his arms wildly.

Kyungsoo thought it was strange for someone to use a blowtorch to rob a museum. Surely it was hard to control, and anyone could’ve noticed him lugging around equipment if he could _burn through a cement wall_? It seemed like far too much work, and made the robbery all the more risky for no good reason.  

“He stole only two items?” Kyungsoo asked.

“Yeah,” Baekhyun said, putting his feet up, “the begging bowl of Buddha and some kind of antique robe.”

Kyungsoo was surprised to hear that. He’d been to the museum once as a kid, but didn’t recall his own country ever housing such an old relic belonging to one of the famous religions in the world. 

“Buddhism must be bigger than I thought,” Kyungsoo remarked. Baekhyun twirled a lock of his hair, holding his Starbucks drink delicately in one hand.

“Nah, it was some kind of special exhibition of relics from all over Asia. How does anyone know if it’s real, though? It’s just a stone bowl, I’ve heard, and it could’ve belonged to anyone. The robe,” Baekhyun scoffed, “I’m willing to bet it’s fake.”  

Kyungsoo shrugged. That was a question no one would ever know the answer to. The conversation went silent for a few moments, which they took to savour their drinks. Kyungsoo had not taken any more than two gulps before Minseok entered the pantry, took one look at the both of them and shrugged.

“Morning, fellas,” he said casually.

“Mornin’ to you too, sir,” Baekhyun drawled. Kyungsoo murmured a greeting as well. Minseok opened a few cabinets briskly, his movements effortless enough that it made Kyungsoo think he must do it every morning for him to be sure of where everything was. He took out a mug, some coffee granules in a pack and set the coffee machine running.

As he did so, Minseok glanced over at Kyungsoo. “So, greenie,” he said conversationally, “how was your first day?”

Kyungsoo wasn’t expecting that question from Minseok, but took it in stride “It went as well as any new employee could ask for,” he replied, “Jongdae and Yixing showed me the ropes, and I think with time I’ll get everything down. I look forward to working well with everyone.”

“You ever worked in marketing before?” Minseok asked, seemingly unsatisfied with Kyungsoo’s standard ideal employee reply.

“No, actually,” Kyungsoo shook his head, “this is my first job, ever.” Minseok and Baekhyun exchanged glances at once. Kyungsoo noticed, and shifted uncomfortably. He was worried they’d start prying.

“Well, most of us here have been working for at least three years and more,” Minseok said, “so you must have a pretty fantastic resume if you impressed Jongdae enough for him to hire someone inexperienced.”

“I spent some time furthering my studies, all the way up to a Masters,” Kyungsoo replied, just to deflect them from his personal life in case they thought he was a homebody— in which case he was but he wasn’t _entirely_ unproductive for the last few years.

Minseok whistled low at that, pouring a cup of coffee for himself when the light on the coffee machine flicked off.

“Guess we’ll see if that Masters goes to good use in this morning’s meeting, then?” Minseok quirked a smile. Kyungsoo knew what that meant; the entire office was probably going to be observing Kyungsoo from hereon out.

Decidedly undaunted, Kyungsoo went into the morning meeting with some ideas written down in his notebook for the company’s next campaign. He spoke up in the meeting when Jongdae opened the floor to suggestions. Surprisingly, it didn’t scare him as much as he thought it would to speak in front of the others.

And Jongdae didn’t shoot him down for his ideas, either. In fact, he liked Chanyeol and Baekhyun’s ideas too, and wanted Kyungsoo to work with them in a group to see if they could come up with a better concept together by the end of the day.

Other staff were grouped into twos or threes too, and Kyungsoo secretly hoped their group’s campaign concept would be chosen. It would be good for his self-esteem and certainly make him feel like he wasn’t just a stranger among the people in the office.

As he toiled through the morning, churning out ideas and searching the internet for usable concepts that could be fitted to the campaign objective, clouds began to darken the sky outside the building.

Lights had to be turned on for them to see after a while, but the weather didn’t dampen Kyungsoo’s spirit. In fact, he felt like their little group had a couple of great options after some time.

He was so ecstatic that he didn’t even realize it was lunchtime. Baekhyun had to tap on his shoulder to remind him to eat, gesturing for him to come along.

“We’ll take you to this exceptional Asian fusion place just down the block,” Baekhyun said, putting on his blazer.

“Um,” Kyungsoo dithered, glancing at the sky. He’d forgotten to bring an umbrella; the weather had been so lovely lately.  

“C’mon, just use your jacket as a cover,” Baekhyun cajoled, when he noticed Kyungsoo hesitating behind his desk. Chanyeol was whistling a wild tune just by the elevator, tapping his foot idly.

 _Why the hell not?_ Kyungsoo thought. “Okay,” he smiled at Baekhyun. Swinging on his jacket, they headed for the elevator.

Upon reaching the ground floor, rain began to shower faintly downwards. Other employees who were also heading out for lunch had umbrellas, ducking under them as soon as they exited the building. Traffic was starting to build up on the streets too, cars going slowly to avoid losing control.

“Where’s the place you were talking about again?” Kyungsoo asked. Chanyeol pointed down the road on their left.

“It’s a short walk. Best part is they serve alcohol throughout the day so if you ever need to unwind…” he waggled his eyebrows. Kyungsoo blushed when Baekhyun and Chanyeol burst out in scandalized laughter. Kyungsoo was terrible at holding his alcohol; drinking also amplified his abilities— something he didn’t need.

“Shall we?” Baekhyun said, wiping a tear from his eye. He loosened the blazer off his shoulders and held it over his head like a cape. When the sidewalk was relatively clear off obstacles, he took off into the light rain at once.

“Try to keep up,” Chanyeol suggested, running a hand in his unruly hair and tore down the street after Baekhyun. Kyungsoo followed immediately, holding an arm over his eyes so he could see.

The rain _looked_ light, but it felt like little stones were raining down on his head and back. Kyungsoo tried his very best to keep up with Chanyeol’s large strides, though he was lagging by a few feet since he didn’t actually know the way and had to brush past the occasional passerby.

 Then he thought he saw Baekhyun ducking into an awning of a restaurant; Chanyeol turned and gestured at it excitedly. Kyungsoo sighed with relief and headed in the same direction.

He stopped jogging when he reached the awning as well, shaking out his blazer. Little droplets flecked in every direction as he peered into the large windows of the restaurant. It was called S.Wine, and Baekhyun was already seated at a table, drying out his hair. Chanyeol stood by the door, having yet to spot either one of them, it seemed.

Kyungsoo decided to dry himself off outside first, in case the restaurant was too fancy to welcome a half-wet customer. Lucky for him, his hair wasn’t too bad and the blazer would dry off in an hour or so. Kyungsoo straightened his tie in the reflection of the window, barely noticing the bell tinkling at the door as someone stepped out of the restaurant.

Whoever it was bumped into Kyungsoo’s shoulder quite hard, enough to jolt him to one side.

Kyungsoo scowled— didn’t he know how to look before he started walking?— and glanced at the guy. He didn’t catch his face, but it was someone taller than Kyungsoo. He had a head of strangely coloured ash grey hair, and was dressed in all black.

When he manoeuvred past Kyungsoo with a mumbled apology, their hands accidentally brushed. And in that moment, Kyungsoo could almost swear this man’s emotions was _electric_.

It was nothing more than a spark, but Kyungsoo felt _everything_. It rushed at him like the ocean, taking him and pulling him forcibly with the tide. Choking, Kyungsoo began to feel emotions that were not of his own. At first, the man’s sadness over something was thrown at him, an inconsolable grief that would probably never heal. A loss he’d felt before, but would never get over with.

Beneath that was despair, nothing like Kyungsoo had ever felt before in another human being. It took his breath away, weighed down on him like a tonne of rocks. The sadness was nothing compared to his despair; it had to be an everyday thought that plagued this man.

And the last emotion had to be the strangest emotion of all; Kyungsoo felt love, fragile and broken.

Their hands ceased to touch. The lack of contact took everything away all at once, including Kyungsoo’s ability to hold himself up. He fell away, hitting the ground in shock. His breath abruptly returned to his lungs like air filling a balloon too quickly. His heart beat erratically in his chest,  

The man seemed to notice nothing and walked on. Kyungsoo slumped, shaking.

 _What the fuck was that?_ Kyungsoo thought.

He wasn’t supposed to be able to feel another’s emotions with such magnitude at just a brief touch. It was like he was dunked into the man’s mind blindfolded; he didn’t know the reasons behind his crushing emotions, but felt them all nonetheless. His despair… Kyungsoo didn’t know how anyone could live like that.

The bell tinkled again, and this time Kyungsoo panicked. He scrambled to his feet and found a worried Baekhyun trying to help him up.

“D-don’t,” Kyungsoo put his hands out when Baekhyun nearly grabbed his hand to pull him up.

“Shit, dude, what happened to you? One minute you were standing here, the next minute you got all pale and went down like a stone. Are you sick, Kyungsoo? You need water, a seat, anything?” Baekhyun asked frantically, dusting him down. Kyungsoo shook his head, unable to control the tremors shaking his body.

“I was just…” he didn’t know what to say.

“You got heart problems?” Chanyeol’s voice suddenly said. Kyungsoo looked up; behind Baekhyun was a confused Chanyeol who looked like he wanted to help but didn’t know how.  

“I— Something like that, yeah,” Kyungsoo said, figuring that this was the best way to explain the situation. He couldn’t just tell them that he’d just felt the most intense emotions in his life from nothing but a brush against a stranger. Besides, he was feeling winded both from running and from the experience of it.

“I think you might’ve strained yourself running,” Baekhyun guessed, standing to one side. “Can you get up? Are you okay, or should we run to the office—”

“What’s going on here?” another voice said. Kyungsoo grimaced. Clearly he was attracting too much attention from the ground. Wobbling, he got to his feet. When he glanced, Chanyeol had made way from the entrance of the restaurant for a young-looking guy, a stranger.

He had toffee-coloured hair streaked with pink, and was wearing a black apron over his clothes. A golden nametag bearing the name ‘Luhan’ winked at him. Kyungsoo supposed he was the bartender from the restaurant.

“I er, got a little too excited running in the rain, that’s all,” Kyungsoo replied, trying to crack a smile, “really, it’s nothing.” The bartender didn’t look convinced.

“It didn’t look like nothing. I have some medical training, and I’d be happy to call you an ambulance if you need one. Chanyeol here said something about your heart?” the guy said.

“Yeah, but it’s fine, really—” Kyungsoo’s protests were drowned out as the three of them insisted on Kyungsoo sitting down in the restaurant and letting Luhan give him a brief check up. Inside, all the customers were eyeing Kyungsoo in a way that he didn’t really like.

He felt like an ant under a microscope as he sat down on a vacant chair by the entrance. Someone took his blazer, another offered him a glass of water. Then Luhan shooed his friends away to give Kyungsoo ‘breathing space.’

“Heart problems shouldn’t be taken lightly, you know,” Luhan said, getting down on one knee to examine Kyungsoo’s scrapped pants. He pressed lightly on his kneecaps through the fabric.

“You feel okay here? No injuries or anything like that?” he asked. Kyungsoo shook his head. The warm glass of water helped him some, the tremors slowly fading away. Kyungsoo couldn’t quite shake the experience off yet, but if he stopped thinking about it, he found that all he felt was numbness.   

Luhan nodded to himself as he examined Kyungsoo to his content. Nothing felt broken, so Kyungsoo counted himself lucky in that aspect. Then Luhan took the glass of water away from Kyungsoo when he was done, and Kyungsoo made to get up. Luhan made a gurgled noise and pushed him back down on his seat.

“I’m not done,” Luhan squawked, reaching for Kyungsoo’s hand. Kyungsoo tried to pull away, but Luhan unbuttoned the cuff of his right wrist in an instant, and pressed two fingers to his wrist.

Kyungsoo tugged his hand, expecting for the rush of emotions that came with another person’s touch. Instead, Luhan hushed him like a child. And Kyungsoo was taken aback for the second time in a span of ten minutes.

There was nothing to feel from Luhan.

It was odd, especially after going through what felt like a hurricane of emotions with that stranger. This, on the other hand, was radio silence. For once, Kyungsoo’s emotions were his own. And at the same time, Luhan seemed to realize something. He was frowning, Kyungsoo noticed, as he took Kyungsoo’s pulse. There was something bugging him, he could tell from Luhan’s expression. After all, Kyungsoo had been avoiding people who had emotions written across their faces all his life.

But for once, Kyungsoo didn’t know why Luhan looked so confused. He lifted his gaze to Kyungsoo’s after a moment.

“…Warlock?” he whispered.

Kyungsoo tilted his head to one side. “A what?” he said.

In that snap moment, Luhan’s demeanour completely changed. “Oh, nothing,” he said, just a little too brightly, “you’ll be fine, sir. What’s your name?”

“Kyungsoo…” he mumbled in reply.

“Kyungsoo! Well, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you at the moment, though I recommend you get checked up at a hospital if you’re free. Terribly sorry about what happened to you anyway, and I’ll make sure you get a 15% discount on your bill…”

He rambled on and on; Kyungsoo didn’t hear much of it. Did Luhan notice something about Kyungsoo? Did he have similar abilities, or was somehow able to sense that Kyungsoo wasn’t like everybody else?

“We hope this doesn’t stop you from coming back to our restaurant, sir, we’d be happy to make our dishes according to your dietary needs, if you have any—” Luhan broke off with a sudden gasp. Kyungsoo looked up at him, wondering what the heck was his problem now.

“You have… a burn here,” Luhan said, pointing at a spot on the side of Kyungsoo’s left hand. He lifted his hand up, and sure enough there was a livid, red spot like Kyungsoo had brushed against something boiling hot.

“Oh,” was all Kyungsoo managed to say.

“Not to worry, we have some Band-Aids for that,” Luhan said, and rushed off to get them. _This must really be a strange day_ , Kyungsoo thought. Because the burn on his hand was the exact spot he brushed up against that stranger.

*

 _おく露の光をだにぞ宿さまし、をぐら山にて何もとめけむ_ _◦_

_"I had hoped to find the gleam of the fallen dew but nothing can I see, why did you go yonder to Mount Ogura?"_

 

Jongin read Suho’s letter again. It was crushed now, in some places and wet in others from the long walk he took to get from Luhan’s restaurant to Suho’s mansion. He had hoped the walk would clear his mind, give him insight as to why Suho would want to do something like this out of nowhere.

But the letter in his hand told him that it wasn’t a fleeting desire, or a spell gone wrong. Suho had been planning to leave this world for a while now, to go into the Void from whence demons came.

Humans called it Hell. Others called it the demon dimension, where it had been long suspected demons crawled out from unto the Earth. To warlocks like Suho, it was the place where they truly belonged, apparently. Many warlocks theorized it was their home dimension, the place where they could rule if they wanted to.

Most were afraid of it like everyone else. It was one thing to be a half-demon, another to go into the demon dimension.

 _‘I hear my father calling, Jongin. It is time for me to return home. We who are immortal, we are bound to this life by a chain of gold, and we dare not sever it for fear of what lies beyond the drop. I wish not to spend a moment longer on Earth, never knowing what the future may hold for creatures like us,’_ his letter read.

_‘I have left treasures which I’ve collected over time in your name. I have the utmost confidence that you will gain your true powers when you’ve helped Kaguya in fulfilling her wishes. Perhaps we shall meet again in the future.’_

Jongin sighed. He’d left in a hurry almost, after Suho had sent him on that errand into the Forest of Illusion.

Suho neglected taking calls after that, and it was only this morning when Jongin found the letter, slipped under his door. Jongin had rushed to his mansion after he read it, only to find most of it in ruins. Ashes floated as Jongin took in the sight; shaken by it all, he headed to Luhan’s restaurant, the only place he knew that served alcohol midday.

Jongin had shown the letter to Luhan over rounds of absinthe; he was mostly ambiguous about the whole thing.

“He’s old, Jongin, and… kind of a dotty old man. Though it was awful nice of him to leave his inheritance to you,” Luhan had observed.

“But he went into the Void,” Jongin shook the letter at him, “no one goes into the Void. Ever.”

“Evidently he did, but anyway. And who’s Kaguya? Is she a friend of yours that I haven’t met?” Luhan had asked. Jongin declined to answer that one, drowning himself in the bitter taste of absinthe.

The loss of Suho hit him harder than he expected; it could’ve just been the shock.  Or maybe it was the fact that he’d helped Jongin just before he left, and he could’ve very well been the last person to see him alive.  

 He had been like a father figure to Jongin for the last fifty years. Suho had helped him out financially whenever he needed it, and paid Jongin to do the occasional odd job for him like obtaining ingredients for a spell. To know that he was gone, and that he would never return was the closest thing to losing a father.

Jongin folded the letter, its every word etched in his mind. He lit it on fire, and watched it curl and bend into black, then disappear into ashes. He’d been looking forward to showing Suho the begging bowl of Buddha he’d obtained for the museum last night and the robe of a fire-rat as well. It hadn’t been easy, and was rather short notice but he managed it.

He knew Suho would have shown some interest in it but… not anymore, he supposed.

Jongin looked at the den around him. It was the only room in the mansion that was warded, so it was the only room that remained intact on the land that Suho once owned. The Portal Suho had made had taken the entire building with it, leaving a shallow crater all around the perimeter. Hopefully, it didn’t harm the secret room that was built directly under the den.

Jongin went to the grand piano and pressed a short series of seemingly random keys. Somewhere at his feet, there was a muffled click.

By the desk, a square of carpet began to slide to one side, revealing the hidden staircase beneath. Suho had invested quite a lot of money into this room, and only ever revealed it to Jongin about a few years ago.  

Down the stairs was a large basement of sorts, where all of Suho’s treasures he’d procured over his life were kept and stored safely.

There was only a basic system to the room; everything was separated into jewels, books, weapons, occult items, totems and the like. Jongin supposed he could keep the begging bowl under totems for now, seeing as this was the only safe spot he could think of to keep it. Wards were not easy to erect, and even harder to do so in apartment buildings.

He took the stone bowl out of his coat pocket, tucking it on the shelf between other strange totems. It sat there, looking like any other bowl. Jongin briefly wondered if it might be a fake; he supposed Kaguya would be able to tell.

The robe, he set it on a hanger among a row of antique kimonos and armour. The robe was bright red, and looked absolutely new, untouched. Either it had been taken care of very well or it was just a red jumpsuit from the ancient times. Then again, the celestial robe didn’t look old so Jongin supposed appearances could be deceiving.

Taking the stairs back up to the den, he resealed the basement and headed out of the room.

Ashes drifting through his footfalls, Jongin decided he deserved at least one night of mourning for his friend slash father figure. Tonight, he would drown his sorrows. Tomorrow, he would seek out the other two treasures left.

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Drinking was always a tedious experience for him. Not because he couldn’t hold his liquor, but because he’d developed such a resistance to its effects that it took far too much effort these days to get drunk. All Jongin was right now was annoyed, a little bit drunk and feeling much too hot.

“Cutting back on the booze in a bit?” Luhan suggested from the other side of the bar. Jongin had already consumed three bottles of his best gin and vodka, but he was still seeing straight.

“No,” he groused, “I want more. Give me something stronger, like whiskey and wine and sherry.”

“That would be disgusting,” Luhan said dryly, polishing a cup with a cloth. Jongin rather admired Luhan sometimes, and his ability to tolerate mortals. He’d opened this restaurant not too long ago and based on the number of customers that were always lingering at any given hour of the day, he’d say Luhan was doing well for himself. At least it gave him a sense of purpose to wake up every morning.

“But it would do the job,” Jongin rubbed a hand over his face, “God, tell me something man, a story. I just want to forget about today.”

“A story? Once, there was a little boy who wanted to dye his hair but simply could not choose a colour…”

“The story of you taking a decade just to figure out what colour to dye your hair doesn’t pass as fascinating,” Jongin deadpanned, “unfortunately, I was there.”

“Well, then I’m all out of interesting stories,” Luhan gleamed his teeth, “your kind of interesting anyway. I know you like a bit of corporate espionage and adventure and reckless fire-blasting but really, Jongin, that doesn’t happen every day and especially not with me.”

“I aim to live a full life,” Jongin muttered.

“Speaking of living, I had a customer who collapsed today,” Luhan chirped, “it was all very strange, you know, he was just standing there—”

Jongin pretended to snore. Luhan threw a teaspoon at his head. “I’m trying here. It’s hard to entertain drinkers like you,” Luhan sniffled. Jongin scowled and gave up on stimulating conversation.

“Maybe I’ll have dessert, Luhan,” he stretched his arms out, “maybe I can work myself into a food coma if I try hard enough. It’d be good for my bill too. I’m practically your Customer of the Month. Do you have cake?” Jongin asked.

“Yeah, a few options. Rum and cheese, chocolate lava, tiramisu…” Luhan trailed off. Jongin thought about it, and then said, “I’ll have each of one then, with whatever wine you recommend to go with it.” Best feed himself with nourishing food before he faced the week ahead of him. He was going to have to work hard to find the next three treasures quickly; he sensed Kaguya was not a very patient person.

“You sure, Jongin?” Luhan griped, “maybe you should take a walk—”

“I walked here. All twenty miles,” Jongin interrupted.

Luhan went on as if he hadn’t spoken, “The moon’s been out since yesterday. Maybe you should take a timeout from life and just lie down on a field. I hear it can be very therapeutic…”

As he continued advocating destressing the healthy way, a group of customers walked in.

The kitchen was closed for the night, so these boys were definitely here for a hard drink. They looked like white collars working in some of the office buildings around the area. Luhan probably made decent bucks just selling drinks to them alone.

Jongin squinted at them, trying to see if there was anything worthwhile to look at. It was just past eleven, but they looked bright-eyed. Perhaps they were here tonight to celebrate, and Jongin was in the mood for celebration of the human body, if nothing else tonight. If only there was someone decent looking enough for the night…

He sat up straight to observe them more carefully. Luhan was dealing with them now, taking their orders one by one. There was a tall one with goofy ears, and another short one who laughed the loudest. He was alright, but Jongin wanted to weigh his options first. And boy, was he glad to have waited because there _was_ one fine-looking man wedged between the other average mortals.

Porcelain skin, dark hair and large, dark eyes, startling against his skin. He was smiling in a somewhat embarrassed manner. _Might not be the biggest fan of attention then,_ Jongin thought.

Shy ones were harder to bed but sometimes they could be worth the effort. As Jongin observed them over his drink, he noticed that the cutie avoided touching others quite carefully. It was subtle, but Jongin saw it. The way he kept his hands in his lap as he sat, or only took his drink after glancing at everyone else.

 _Neat freak?_ Jongin thought. Maybe. Wouldn’t be his first time with a freak in the sheets. Jongin could always just get him drunk enough to loosen up a bit.

Just as he pondered as to whether flirting with him was worth it or not, Luhan came over to him, serving him a fresh glass of wine. “Get your cake in a minute. See this group over here? They came in earlier today and one of them collapsed. Now they’re celebrating a pitch, I think, so I’m going to be here holding this bottle of whiskey till they leave.”

“Mm, fascinating. You can forget the cake, Luhan, dessert just walked in with this group. I like the one with the dark hair, he’s interesting...” Jongin ran a hand through his hair and flicked his collar upwards.

“Oh, there’s just one tiny thing—”

“He’s hot? I know, it’s been a while,” Jongin replied, distracted. He got up as Luhan kept chattering on and on in panicked tones, but Jongin was going in for the kill now. He walked right up to the group with his wine and flashed his best smile.

“Celebrating, boys?” he asked conversationally.

“Yeah, this greenie just landed us this month’s commission,” one of them said, clapping a hand on the cutie’s shoulder. Up close he was young, very young. There was a look of inexperience and innocence to him. A rare look these days.

“Well, I’d love to join in and help you celebrate,” Jongin smiled, and cocked an eyebrow at him.

He looked surprised to have someone flirting with him, a classic deer in headlights look on his face. Maybe he didn’t look in the mirror very often.

“Excuse me, but I—” he sputtered. Jongin hushed him.

“No need to be shy,” he reassured him, “Luhan, can I get some music, please?” Jongin said over his shoulder. Luhan gave an angry sort of grunt and a moment later, pop rock music started to fill the atmosphere. Jongin resisted rolling his eyes; this wasn’t the kind of music you used to seduce someone, but he supposed it was better than nothing.

Making sure he didn’t touch him, Jongin brought a seat over and sat beside Kyungsoo.

“This round’s on me,” Jongin announced, to the cheers of the guys around them. Luhan poured them shots, and soon his friends were all too busy guzzling down their first few drinks to care about the both of them. They seemed to like the music, and soon started swaying with one another.

“Your name?” Jongin asked.

“Kyungsoo,” he replied, and dipped his head slightly. Jongin laughed under his breath.

“I’m Jongin. And you haven’t touched your drink yet, Kyungsoo,” Jongin gestured at his shot glass on the counter. He shook his head and laughed nervously, scratching the back of his neck.

“I… I don’t drink. I only came ‘cause they made me,” Kyungsoo replied, nodding at his friends. Luhan couldn’t keep up with their empty glasses on the counter fast enough.

“How tragic. But I suppose being sober makes for a more electrifying experience?” Jongin suggested, downing all of his wine. Kyungsoo swallowed thickly, looking at him.

“W-what?” he stammered.

“Nothing,” Jongin smiled, “would you like to dance with me?” he stood and offered his hand towards Kyungsoo like a gentleman. Kyungsoo visibly swallowed, looking from his hand to Jongin.

“Coming?” Jongin pressed playfully. It was fun to see Kyungsoo squirm under his gaze. Jongin knew his bright brown eyes were strange to mortals, and Kyungsoo was not immune to their charms. He seemed to weigh his options, before a realization of sorts dawned upon Kyungsoo.

“You… I— We’ve met before. This afternoon. You were here, and I bumped into you,” Kyungsoo said, staring down at Jongin’s hand.

“Flattered that you remember me, then,” Jongin said. He reached for Kyungsoo’s hand just then, and tugged him forward. At once, Kyungsoo winced and tried to pull away when Jongin’s hand wrapped around his. Jongin frowned, before he felt Kyungsoo’s pulse.

He had the pulse of a warlock, his heartbeat at the same pace as Jongin’s. There was something about a warlock’s heartbeat that was different from a regular mortal’s; it was a lot slower, steadier. And Jongin suspected Kyungsoo had some kind of ability to feel the fire in his veins; some warlocks were sensitive enough to feel it.

Those who could usually said Jongin’s touch was like coming too close to a naked flame. However, Jongin could keep his aura or whatever to himself, bottle it up so that it didn’t radiate to others who could feel it.

He concentrated, holding on to Kyungsoo’s hand. His protests ceased, and Jongin felt the fire recede inside of him.

“You okay?” Jongin asked, when Kyungsoo placed a hand on his own chest, heaving slightly. There was an unspoken gratefulness and surprise in Kyungsoo’s eyes, clearly having felt the difference. Jongin pulled him a little closer, chucking him under his chin.

“It’s fine,” Jongin said, “we’ll go slow tonight.”

Bringing him to wide open space, Jongin danced with Kyungsoo, slowly first, to make him feel comfortable. Someone brought over another round of drinks, which Jongin tipped down Kyungsoo’s throat. It got him all red in the face within seconds, but Jongin didn’t mind when he started loosening up, unbuttoning his collar and undoing his tie.

“It’s warm here…” he muttered. Jongin took the loose ends of Kyungsoo’s tie and started to grind their hips together ever so lightly. Jongin wanted to make him feel more than warm; he wanted Kyungsoo to feel hot like the summer wind.

His hand trailed down Kyungsoo’s back to his ass; it felt full and plush in Jongin’s hand, and he squeezed. Kyungsoo gasped involuntarily and knocked right into Jongin, grazing his crotch. Jongin bit his lip, gazing down at Kyungsoo. He had a face that begged to be wrecked.

“I… I usually don’t do this,” Kyungsoo breathed, barely audible around the music.

“Well, I can promise I don’t make this a habit with everyone I see either,” Jongin replied, leaning down to kiss Kyungsoo’s neck gently. He tasted Kyungsoo’s sweat on his tongue, and Kyungsoo shuddered.

“Actually to clarify, I’ve never done this before,” Kyungsoo groaned, hands digging into Jongin’s waist.

“First time’s always the best,” Jongin whispered in his ear, a promise.

The next thing Jongin knew, he was kissing Kyungsoo heavily in one corner of the bar after Kyungsoo insisted on a break. He remembered a hazy look in Kyungsoo’s eyes and thought he looked absolutely sensual with his clothes haphazard upon his shoulders. Now, all he could think of was Kyungsoo’s soft mouth and the way he stuck his tongue boldly into Jongin’s.

Kyungsoo was bold with his hands too, pushing at Jongin’s coat so he could run his hands all over his chest and arms.

Jongin did the same, running his hands slowly, trying to feel for Kyungsoo’s sweet spot. When he flicked Kyungsoo’s nipple through the thin fabric of his shirt and he gave a jolt, Jongin smiled through wet kisses.

“You wanna,” Jongin said between kisses, “go somewhere private?”

Kyungsoo’s lips were deliciously red and swollen when Jongin drew back slightly. “You could be a slasher or a murderer,” he slurred with a blissful smile.

“There are worse things than death,” Jongin giggled, feeling just a touchy giddy. Kissing Kyungsoo made him feel out of breath; not the best combination with alcohol, but it was hard to resist when he looked like he was begging to be kissed.

Jongin called for more drinks, continuing to shower Kyungsoo with kisses. If this was his first time then he was going to do this right by him. Jongin wanted to build up the tension between them, see how far Kyungsoo could go with Jongin nudging him along. When Luhan came over with a pitcher of beer, shaking his head, Jongin nodded at him in greeting.

“Let’s finish this and we’ll go back to my place. Or yours, if you wanna feel safer,” Jongin said, pouring Kyungsoo a glass. He drank it all greedily, probably a sign of dehydration from all that sweating.

“Isn’t it Tuesday?” Kyungsoo murmured woozily, when he was done. A light moustache of foam lined his upper lip, and Jongin licked off for him delicately.

“What about Tuesday?” Jongin asked, hopping on a stool and patting his lap for Kyungsoo to sit. He obeyed, wrapping his arms around Jongin and laying his head on Jongin’s shoulder.

“Take me back to my place,” Kyungsoo murmured, nibbling on a patch of skin on Jongin’s neck, “I don’t wanna be late for work.”

Jongin couldn’t help but smile at that, and hid his laughter in Kyungsoo’s dark hair. _So responsible_ , Jongin thought, patting him gently. All the more reason to wreck him in bed and watch him get wild.

-

An hour later, they were stumbling out of a taxi in front of Kyungsoo’s supposed apartment. Jongin could walk (barely), but Kyungsoo was bordering on the edge of fall down drunk. There was a possibility that this wasn’t his address, but Jongin had to try.

They went up in the elevator like two wobbly, new born deer, both holding each other up. Jongin was pleased to see that Kyungsoo was very much in the mood despite the fact that he couldn’t possibly do anything beyond giving Jongin a sloppy handjob and a kiss. Regardless, he still nuzzled at Jongin’s chest, murmuring stuff like, ‘You smell so sweet,’ or ‘I could fall asleep on your chest, it’s _so_ nice.’

“Apartment 24, right? Level…”

“Five!” Kyungsoo yelled, and smiled up at Jongin.

“Alright then, level five, apartment 24, here we come,” Jongin said. The doors slid open, and Jongin went into one direction, only to find that the numbers on the apartment doors were odd numbers. He had to lug Kyungsoo over to the other direction, and when he unlocked the door, Jongin couldn’t be any more relieved.

“Can you take off your shoes?” Jongin asked, toeing off his own and reaching for Kyungsoo’s. He kicked them off quite violently, nearly sending one right into Jongin’s eye.

Kyungsoo apologized profusely, which Jongin waved away. He shut the door, and after that it was only a matter of locating the bedroom. Finally, they collapsed on Kyungsoo’s magnificently soft bed. The room was dark, save for the dim light coming from outside.

“Take off all your clothes,” Kyungsoo slurred determinedly, his apologies gone with the wind now. Jongin laughed.

“You’re drunk, Kyungsoo.”

“So are you,” Kyungsoo replied, movements sluggish as he tried to tug off Jongin’s belt. Jongin had to help him do it, and let him slide his pants off his legs. Kyungsoo made a strange purring noise in his throat when he caught sight of Jongin’s cock. If he wasn’t naked waist down, Jongin would’ve laughed. 

“You have… a nice dick,” Kyungsoo stated, staring at it like it was something he’d never seen before.

“And you are wearing too much. Now you take off your clothes,” Jongin quirked a lazy eyebrow at him. Kyungsoo threw his head back and giggled, eyes sliding shut. “Fine, I’ll take off my clothes, Mr. Sexy Human Torch,” he mumbled, motioning to take off his jacket even though he wasn’t wearing one.

“Human Torch?” Jongin said in amusement.

“Yeah,” Kyungsoo sighed, “when we met, you brushed your hand on mine and burned me. It hurt, Jongin. See this boo-boo?” he pouted, and showed Jongin the Band-Aid on the side of his hand.

 _Strange_ , he thought. His aura wasn’t _that_ strong. Unless... the full moon had something to do with it. Plus, he wasn’t in the best state of mind when he left Luhan’s restaurant in the afternoon. He kissed the Band-Aid anyway, and grinned when Kyungsoo smiled shyly. He was a lot more fun to be around when drunk.

“Taking off my clothes now,” Kyungsoo announced loudly.

“Do it,” Jongin said, shifting on the bed to sit against the headboard and watch. Kyungsoo did a small, wiggling dance that Jongin thought should’ve looked sexy. Instead, it looked like Kyungsoo was trying to be something that he wasn’t, which was not what Jongin signed up for. He wasn’t the biggest fan of roleplay.

“Just take it off,” Jongin suggested, when Kyungsoo seemed to regain a small part of his modesty.

“It’s— your eyes,” Kyungsoo muttered, unbuttoning his shirt agonizingly slow, “they’re so pretty in the moonlight.”  

Jongin smiled, his heart warming unexpectedly at that comment. It wasn’t the first time he’d been complimented about it (or insulted), but coming from someone genuine and sweet like Kyungsoo…

“C’mere, big baby,” Jongin opened his arms wide, “you deserve a small kiss for that.”

Kyungsoo squealed and crawled over at once, collapsing on Jongin and nuzzling his neck. Jongin hugged him, relishing in the warmth that only another human being could give. _It was nice to hold and to be held,_ Jongin thought. It had been quite a while since he held someone platonically in his arms.

The thought of Sehun suddenly struck Jongin like a bolt. They’d been in a position like this before, on many a dark night where they did nothing but watch the stars.

Jongin would listen to Sehun’s stories for hours, and they’d fall asleep like that, tangled in one another.

He blinked, and looked down at Kyungsoo once again. They were nothing alike, really. They both had inky black hair and exceptionally beautiful skin, but that was where their similarities ended. Kyungsoo was shy and inexperienced where Sehun was wild and untameable.

Until, of course, his untimely end. Then he was silent like he never was, and Jongin cried for days.

Jongin shook his thoughts away. He had to keep moving forward, had to keep going. The past was the past, and there was nothing else but the present time now. He dug his fingers into Kyungsoo’s soft hair, nails scraping against his scalp. It wasn’t until he heard faint snores that he realized Kyungsoo had fallen asleep on top of him.

Jongin stopped. He chuckled lightly, watching Kyungsoo sleep peacefully as if there was nothing that could disrupt him. Jongin tugged at the covers around them, and swept it over Kyungsoo’s body.

Settling in for the night, Jongin laid his head on a pillow and slept.

*

Kyungsoo shot up in bed when his alarm rang. Then he winced as his head protested, and dropped back down on the mattress. Reaching blindly, Kyungsoo hit the alarm clock. Silence.

 _That was the best sleep in months,_ Kyungsoo thought blissfully. For once, the waking world had no influence on his sleep and there was only peace. Dimly, he remembered drinking quite heavily. Perhaps liquor had something to do with it. Either way, it was a beautiful night last night…

He abruptly sat up again. Kyungsoo distinctly remembered having slept with someone. Twin brown eyes flecked with gold had stared him down as he tried to undress.

Kyungsoo patted at himself; most of his clothes seemed to be on him. Nothing seemed to be missing. Had he done something rash last night? It didn’t _feel_ like it, but the memories from the night before were hazy. Kyungsoo wasn’t sure if he could trust himself to not do anything weird either.

He moaned in his throat, lamenting his actions— whatever they were. He must’ve made a complete spectacle of himself. But it was all his fault… _Jongin_ , his mind supplied. Oh, _oh_. Jongin.

Jongin was the strangest of all last night. Kyungsoo hadn’t recognized him at first, was overwhelmed by this bloody gorgeous human being attempting to flirt with him. Then the light hit Jongin’s hair a certain way, and he realized he was the man he’d bumped into earlier in the afternoon. He would never forget the strange shade of his hair, or the intense brown of his eyes.

Of course, his looks made him all the more cautious when Jongin held out a hand to him for a dance. He had touched Kyungsoo anyway, and swirls of emotions had taken over him just as they did in the afternoon.

There had been a chockful of despair, desperation and anxiety. They were vivid, intensely so; it was like dreaming with his eyes wide open.

But somehow, they went away a few seconds later like a receding tide.

And when they did, Kyungsoo found it easy to focus all of a sudden. There were no more emotions, just silence. Jongin had been with him for— what felt like a long time, and throughout the entire period, Kyungsoo felt nothing.

And because no one else came near Kyungsoo, it was easy to let go. For a few hours, it felt like he had nothing but his own emotions. And based on what he could remember, he really did _let go_.   

It was a little too early for regrets right now.

Moving to get out of bed, Kyungsoo stood gingerly on his two feet. Out the window, there was a faint outline of the full moon in the sky like a stubborn stain that wouldn’t quite go away.  He felt like he hadn’t walked in years and was just trying it out again for the first time. He shuffled to the bathroom, which was spotless. So his guest hadn’t showered then, or cleaned up very well after himself.

Kyungsoo yawned, splashing water from the faucet on his face. It woke him up some, and he grabbed a hand towel to wipe his face off. He glanced at himself in the mirror as he did so, and caught sight of a note stuck to it.

Curious, he plucked it off the surface and read the note. The handwriting on it was sloppy, as if his guest had been in a hurry to leave.

_‘Left some bread for you in the kitchen. You fell asleep before we could do anything, so don’t worry your pretty head off. See you soon, maybe? Xx’_

_See me soon?_ Kyungsoo thought.

But how? He hadn’t left a number or a way to contact him, let alone his last name. And their meeting at Luhan’s had been by chance entirely. Still, the two x’s he left were oddly comforting. Kyungsoo traced a finger over it, feeling the indents he’d made while writing the note.

Maybe they would see each other again soon. Kyungsoo had a feeling Jongin would be back in his life, some time, somehow.

Ploughing through his headache, Kyungsoo got ready for the day. He had to have two cups of coffee at home just to function normally, and another when he got to the office. He was three minutes late, but luckily Jongdae had yet to arrive.

His co-workers who’d gone out with him didn’t look any better than him too. Baekhyun had eyebags like a racoon, and Chanyeol was sleeping in his office. Yixing was nowhere to be seen, but meanwhile Minseok was in the pantry, looking rather fresh for someone who had been dancing like a contestant on dance show to the Sound of Music soundtrack the previous night.

“Hello, Kyungsoo. Good to see you,” Minseok greeted him, “wasn’t sure you’d come in on time.”

“It’s only my third day, of course I’d come,” Kyungsoo replied, slurping at his hot coffee. His headache still refused to go away, although he did feel just a little bit fresher. “How are you so chipper anyway? I swear, I saw you take at least ten shots last night.”

Minseok reached into his pocket and brought out a little plastic packet. In it were small, pink pills.

“My hangover cure. You want one?” Minseok asked. Kyungsoo nodded eagerly. Minseok grinned, bringing his coffee as he walked over to him.

“I’ll give it to you one under the condition that you don’t ever mention it to Baekhyun or anyone else in this office. All these boys don’t know what self-control is, or a pharmacy for that matter. So just pop one, and pretend you drank kale this morning. Alright?” Minseok said in a low voice.

Kyungsoo would’ve agreed to anything at that point.

“Sure,” he said in a daze. Popping a pill would help anyway; if this was what a hangover felt like then he didn’t need any extra input from others if he brushed against someone’s hand by accident.

Drugs usually numbed his abilities some, to the point where he would need to hold someone’s hand tightly if he wanted to feel their emotions (he didn’t, and never would).

He gladly swallowed one of the pills Minseok gave him with his coffee, and was relieved to feel much more clear-headed half an hour later. He finished his coffee and ate some biscuits he found in the office to fill his stomach.

By then, Baekhyun and the others roused themselves just enough to sip at some coffee and pretend they were fine enough to attend the morning meeting.

“God,” Kyungsoo caught Baekhyun muttering, “should’ve taken the damned day off.”

Kyungsoo went in the conference room and sat beside Minseok, while the others leaned heavily in their seats, eyes glazed over. Jongdae came in to the room not long after that, bringing some papers from his office. Kyungsoo thought he looked a little frazzled, but didn’t think much of it. They were starting the meeting a little late anyway, and they did have a deadline to prepare for.

“Congratulations, Kyungsoo’s team, for coming up with a wonderful idea for the next campaign,” Jongdae said, smiling briefly.

“And now, we’re going to have to prepare a real brief for the higher-ups to consider it. So, I expect everyone to pitch in on this idea and help each other whenever you can. First things first, who are we targeting specifically?”

They took an hour and a half just to figure all the basic details out. Jongdae wrote most down on a board as they went along, while Kyungsoo made notes in his notebook so he wouldn’t miss out on anything.

Figuring out which medium vehicle to use was the toughest, because the budget given wasn’t very substantial this year. However, Kyungsoo tried to think of all the ways to utilize the money wisely and Chanyeol began to call up some people to see if they could get good prices on TV adverts. Baekhyun did so too, and they both had to step out to make their calls.

It was only when some of the staff left to get more coffee or take a toilet break when Kyungsoo noticed Jongdae in the corner of his eye, and realized he was rather distracted today.

He was paying attention to whatever his team was saying, but he also kept glancing at his phone like it was a time bomb. Kyungsoo’s first instinct was to say something, but he wondered if it was unprofessional to do so.

And he was Jongdae’s latest addition to his staff; if there _was_ anything wrong, he doubted he would’ve opened up anyway.

Nonetheless, his thoughts went back to the time when he shook hands with Jongdae, and felt his sadness. He wondered what Jongdae could possibly be going through. He looked so well put together, and was awfully nice as a boss. Jongdae glanced at his phone again, and ran a hand through his hair, sighing heavily. Kyungsoo supposed one would never really know what was going on in another’s personal life.

He looked down at his own notebook, trying to pick his thoughts from where he left off. He was supposed to be fleshing the adverts out regardless of what media would be used, but was a little too distracted now.

On his right, Minseok tapped his cuff quietly. Kyungsoo glanced at him, and saw him motioning to the door.

Kyungsoo raised his eyebrows in question, but Minseok didn’t answer. He just got up and said to Jongdae, “We’re gonna get some coffee, if you don’t mind.” Some of the staff had already returned, bringing in some A3 size papers to visualize the ads.

“Sure, go ahead,” Jongdae replied, scribbling something on the board. Kyungsoo and Minseok left, and stopped when they reached the pantry.

“You noticed, didn’t you?” was the first thing Minseok said.

“Noticed what?”

“Jongdae,” Minseok replied, sounding irritated at Kyungsoo.

“Yeah, I guess I did,” Kyungsoo raised an eyebrow. This wasn’t exactly what he thought Minseok would talk to him about. Kyungsoo glanced at the door nervously; he wasn’t sure what were the consequences for gossiping in the pantry but he hoped he wouldn’t find out.

“Well, everyone noticed too, but you’re new so you don’t know. And I’m gonna tell you because the last guy found out through Jongdae himself, and he got so fucking embarrassed that he left,” Minseok said, lowering his voice slightly.

“Um, alright,” Kyungsoo shifted uncomfortably. It wasn’t a great sign if the last guy left because he was _that_ embarrassed. Did Jongdae harbour some sort of dark, open secret?

“Jongdae’s divorced,” Minseok said flatly.

“He’s been separated from his wife for three years, but he’s only just gotten the divorce legalized this year. The only reason why it took so long was because he was in the one of the worst fights for custody fights I’ve ever seen, and I have a lot of friends who are divorced,” Minseok said, shaking his head in disappointment.

Kyungsoo took all of this in a daze, almost.

“He lost custody rights to his daughter, and it’s hit him in a hard way. Some days he’s alright, usually on Mondays when he’s just spent the weekend with her. The rest of the days he’s the way you see him now, kinda shakin’, kinda upset.

“But you don’t ask about it, and you don’t ever act like something’s wrong. It’ll only upset him further, and that’s when you see the workaholic, stressed out dad who never sees his daughter as much as he’d like.” That didn’t sound pretty.

Kyungsoo was mildly thankful for this information, because now he’d know which bomb to avoid stepping on. But at the same time, a sense of horror seeped through his conscious, the blanks now filling in. Jongdae was sad— understandably so— because he would never be a proper dad to his daughter, and he’d lost possibly the only battle that mattered most to him.

“You hearing all this?” Minseok said gruffly, “not a word to Jongdae. It was all everyone ever talked about when he got separated, and then when he got divorced it was even worse.”

Kyungsoo frowned. “But why…?”

Minseok sighed wearily. “His wife used to be our colleague. Made a whole mess when they got separated, and then divorced. It’s one of the reasons why this department prefers to take guys now. No girls, no romance, no messes anymore,” he shrugged. Kyungsoo went red at that, but said nothing.

Not like he had a thing for anyone in the office anyway, though he’d like to think that he wouldn’t have made such a horrific mess if he did. He couldn’t possibly imagine doing something this horrific to someone he loved. How could love end up turning into something so twisted and ugly?

“I won’t say anything,” Kyungsoo promised, just to appease Minseok, “and thanks for letting me know ahead.”

“It’s alright,” Minseok said, patting his shoulder, “I wouldn’t want to see someone else get fired just because they tried to be a hero.”

He walked out, and left Kyungsoo alone in the pantry. He felt a little hollow inside, looking down at his hands. What was the point of knowing someone was sad if there was no way for him to help at all?

 

*

 

 _年を経て波立ち寄らぬ住の江の、まつかひなしと聞くはまことか_ _◦_

_“Time has passed swiftly as I've waited to see the shell you promised: they say I wait in vain, could this be so?”_

 

Jongin growled in frustration, flinging handfuls of mud everywhere. Mosquitos buzzed noisily, and he drew up blasts of flame to burn them into oblivion, shouting in frustration.

Fire licked at the trees all around him, turning them half black mid-stem.

It had been three entire days of fruitlessness, searching for the swallow’s cowrie shell to no avail. That meant three days wasted, visiting every possible seaside beach Jongin could think of, every swamp, every lake, every riverside in and out of Seoul.

Jongin was starting to get irritated by all these legendary rumours; if the swallow’s cowrie shell was hidden by some body of water, couldn’t it be stated plainly as so? Maybe a name or some other indication of its hiding place. Why bother talking in riddles, give vague clues when it was already bloody difficult enough to find it?

And the princess of the moon couldn’t get off his back too. Every time he looked up at the full moon these past few nights he would see her face up in the sky, trying to talk to him. Every time he walked past a mirror or reflective surface, it would glow with an unearthly light. In his sleep, Kaguya would bug him, prodding at him to wake up and find the last of the five treasures to free her.

She was getting impatient, and he was no closer to finding the swallow’s cowrie shell now than he was three days ago.

“You must strike while the iron is hot,” she kept hissing at him, “with every passing night, my hold on your world becomes weaker without the power of the celestial robe. The eternal night _will_ come to pass, half-demon, and I don’t care if I have to kill you to do it.”

Death threats from a celestial princess didn’t rub Jongin the right way either. He was starting to doubt she was a real heavenly princess anyway; she was supposed to be nice even if she was a bitch when it came to marriage. Why else would she be trapped anyway? She must’ve pissed someone off enough to get herself trapped on Earth in the first place.

His phone rang in his pocket while he had both hands deep in mud. Jongin scowled, wiping one hand on a tree to clean it of mud hastily. He had to take out his phone very carefully from the pocket of his jeans, and answered the call.

“Hello?” he sighed.

“Jongin! Jongin, how’s you? Haven’t heard from you in days and I was starting to think you went into the Void too,” Luhan’s voice chirped.

“Christ, Luhan… No, I haven’t been into the Void, and I’m fine. Been a little busy is all.”

“Busy? With what?” Luhan asked. Always such a nosy fucker. Jongin pretended to make weird noises and said, “Er, reception isn’t so great here, Lu.”

“Quit it, you idiot. I remember you mentioned Kaguya the other day, and one of the girls at S.Wine just loaned me this book about Japanese ghosts and legends. So I’ve only got one question for you, Jongin. Do you have anything to do with the fact that there’s been a full moon in the sky _for more than a week_?” Luhan asked.

 _Ah_ , Jongin thought, of course Luhan would find out. _Of course._

“No,” Jongin lied.

“So you do. What have you done this time, Jongin, please for the love of—”

“Nothing,” Jongin groused, trying to clean his hands of mud. That blast of fire earlier had hardened it into something like clay, and it hurt to get it off.

“Oh, c’mon, you talked about Kaguya, the one and only princess of the moon and suddenly there’s a full moon every night? You can’t honestly expect me to believe it’s not a coincidence.”

“You don’t know what it’s like, Luhan,” Jongin snapped, “to be powerless every new moon and watch someone die just because your parents couldn’t be bothered with fucking birth control.”

Silence on the other end. “Oh, Jongin,” Luhan said softly.

It wasn’t news to him anymore, Sehun’s death. Everyone knew about the warlock who died by water and his lover who killed the entire village responsible for his death the next day with fire.

Drowning was an odd way to die for a warlock. It was such a _human_ way to die. But Jongin made sure the entire village paid for it in blood. Blood and ashes.

“Don’t ‘Oh, Jongin’ me,” Jongin retorted, “I just want to get my powers and become a proper warlock once and for all. No more changing every new moon. I made a deal with Kaguya, and she said she could do it if I freed her.”

“Those kinds of deals are rarely ever so clear cut, Jongin,” Luhan said quietly.

Jongin knew that. He also knew that there was a chance Kaguya would kill him. After all, he had no real use to her once she was released. But he wasn’t entirely against that idea; life held little for him, and far too many memories that he tried to escape every day.

“I know,” he simply said, “it’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

“Well, I… suppose it’s your choice. But wait, what did you mean by freeing her? I thought she went back to the moon and—”

“Hey um, Lu, I think the signal here is kinda shit,” Jongin said, making weird feedback noises with his mouth. He hacked away like he had a bad cough, and for a moment, it was loud enough to sound real.

“H-Hello? I can’t really hear you,” he said loudly, and made more garbled noises.

He could hear a panicked Luhan on the other line. “Jongin? Jongin, I’m calling you back. Jongin, you’re not faking this, are you? Jong—”

He hung up. Jongin pressed the off button clumsily, turning his phone off so Luhan couldn’t bug him again. He needed to concentrate, and Luhan wasn’t exactly a source of calm. He stuck his phone between the branches of a tree after that, and cleared his hands as best as he could. He was going to sweep the swamp one last time. If the stupid shell wasn’t going to show up, then he would have no choice but to give up the fight for today and continue tomorrow.

Jongin wiped the sweat off his brow. Surely it had to be at some of the swamps he’d visited so far, if not this one. He just needed to think a little harder, instead of digging around and looking for a needle in a haystack…

“If the shell was lost over eight hundred years ago…” he squinted, thinking hard. Well, this swamp was more than old enough. He crossed out a few locations mentally; he’d looked up many places in the local library and knew some were much younger than that.

In that case, it was potentially here, somewhere, perhaps hidden after all those years.

 _Unless, it wasn’t intentionally hidden?_ He thought.

Legend had it that swallows used the shell as a charm for laying eggs. Swallows usually nested in nooks or crannies, needing very little light. This swamp had mangrove trees growing everywhere, their branches and roots providing the perfect habitat for these birds. And after so long, perhaps the shell was stuck somewhere while the trees grew as centuries passed.

He looked up, squinting at the slim rays of sunlight that slipped between the mosaic of leaves. Perhaps it had been stuck in some swallow’s nest once, overhead in the branches.

Jongin dropped his gaze back down to the mud at his feet, covering his shoes and spattered in all the places he’d stepped on. _What goes up must come down_ , he figured. He rolled up his sleeves, and began to dig beneath the roots of the nearest tree.

It was tougher than just digging at some random spot. The spiky bits of the buttress roots kept poking his arms and hands like large thorns. He gritted his teeth throughout the process; as much as he wanted to just burn down the entire swamp to make this a little easier, that was going to cause more trouble than he needed.

After managing to clear a shallow hole beneath the first tree and finding nothing except a stray crab and some unidentifiable shapes, he wiped the sweat off his brow and moved on to the next tree.

He spotted an old nest wedged between two flimsy branches (though of what bird species he couldn’t be sure) and figured it was the best place to dig like anywhere else. He got down onto his knees and dug like a man hungered, grasping onto anything that could be the swallow’s cowrie shell.

At the fourth tree, he thought he’d struck the jackpot, but when he wiped the wet mud off it was just a piece of broken shell.

Jongin flung it aside and went right on digging under the next tree, for what felt like hours under the sun. He laboured and dug till his hands bled from where his nails broke. And just as the sun began to descend from the sky, he found a large lump under a particularly large and dying mangrove tree.

At first, he mistook it for a dead crab and made to push it to one side in a pile of useless things he’d found so far (people threw the strangest things away). Then he’d held it in his hand for a brief moment, and noticed it didn’t feel like the shell of a crustacean.

It didn’t have any serrated edges like that of a crab for one. He wiped his hands on the bark of the nearest tree, and smeared the mud off the item he held.

In his hands lay a cowrie shell, perfectly shaped in dull yellow and larger than any other cowrie shell he’d ever seen. Jongin decided the legend associated with the shell had to have been nothing more than rumours, because there was no way a swallow could have picked this up in its beak and used it as a charm or anything like that.

In fact, it was larger than a swallow— three swallows. A small family of swallows could live in it, for God’s sake. Then again, he wasn’t here to confirm or dissolve rumours.

All he knew was that he’d finally found it and knew there was no doubt it was genuine. Cowrie shells were never this size, and its purpose could be nothing short of divine. Jongin wiped off the last smudges of mud on his clothes and held it carefully.

In the sky, the sun began to disappear into the horizon, leaving behind streaks of purple and dark blue. The full moon hung in the sky, faint and pale.

-

In hindsight, Jongin supposed he should’ve known Luhan would’ve worked himself up into a frenzy over nothing. He practically fell to the ground praising the Lord when Jongin emerged from the elevator, his clothes half spattered in mud and his running shoes destroyed after having to trudge all the home on foot.

“Jongin, I thought you _died_!” Luhan sobbed, hugging Jongin tightly. Jongin grunted in reply.

“I was so worried, the signal was breaking up so bad and I couldn’t get through when I called you back. Ooh, is baby Jongin okay?” Luhan cooed. Jongin swatted his fluttering hands away, sputtering in protest. Really, he was older than all of this. Both of them were. Luhan stopped, but continued to look at him like he was a sick child.

“Why are you here?” Jongin asked crossly, even though he could guess.

“I came to talk to you about Kaguya, of course!” Luhan exclaimed, “You know, there’s just something about her and the moon that I can’t put my finger around just yet…”

Jongin brushed past him, determined to get to his apartment first. He wasn’t quite up to Luhan’s conspiracy theories and long rambles just yet. Luhan went on while Jongin pointedly ignored him in favour of unlocking the door and kicking off his ruined shoes.

“The thing that confuses me about the legend is that she’s supposed to have gone back to the moon, right? But she had to have come back, which is how she got trapped and lost the celestial robe,” Luhan rambled, trailing after Jongin as he went around the house trying not to dirty the entire place.

They went from the hallway to the bedroom, where Jongin grabbed his towel and began shrugging off his clothes.

“The thing is, I wonder if she came back of her own volition, and— Oh for God’s sake, Jongin,” Luhan sighed in exasperation when Jongin dropped his pants in a pile around his ankles. He sent him a dry look.

“You were the one who insisted on barging into my apartment and following me all the way in.”

“Yes, but is it that hard to keep your clothes on? Speaking of which, you look good for someone your age,” Luhan remarked, lifting an eyebrow suggestively as he skimmed over Jongin’s figure.

Jongin kicked his gross pants at him, and Luhan squawked in indignance. He slammed into the bathroom, cutting Luhan short.

“Jongin! You’re acting like a child,” Luhan complained from the other side of the door.

“Me? A child? When I’ve been searching and digging through mud like some insane—”

“Child? Because that’s what children do! And what were you digging through mud for?” Luhan asked. It suddenly occurred to Jongin that he’d left the shell in his coat pocket, which he’d flung to the ground in his haste to escape Luhan’s prying questions.

He unlocked the bathroom door, stepping out and risking his modesty to find Luhan cradling the cowrie shell in his hands, looking down at it in wonder.

“Jongin…?” Luhan looked up at him, the shell weighed in one hand awkwardly.

“What’s this?”

Jongin swallowed thickly. “The swallow’s cowrie shell,” he replied. Luhan’s mouth dropped open in incredulity. Words seemed to fail him; he looked at Jongin, then at the shell and back again. For once, Jongin forgave Luhan’s surprise. Wasn’t every day where they get to hold an ancient relic from a legend as old as civilization.

“Swallow’s cowrie shell? Jongin, don’t tell me this is _the_ shell from Taketori Monogatari. The one that Kaguya’s suitors couldn’t find.”

“It is,” Jongin said, shoulder slumping. Luhan set it down quietly, as if he couldn’t bear to hold something so legendary, something that people had died looking for just to impress a woman. He sat down on the ground, crossed his legs and pressed his fingers to his temples.

“I think you’d better start talking once you shower, Jongin, because I don’t understand what’s going on.”

So Jongin went back into the bathroom, feeling like a berated child as he scrubbed at the dirt on his body and face with soap. His skin glowed pink by the time he was done and he felt much cleaner, up until the moment he saw the hickies left on his neck.

They were the only reminders he had of Kyungsoo and their surprisingly platonic night together. He smiled to himself as he applied a little moisturizer over his face and neck.

Kyungsoo was really a strange one. He didn’t think he’d ever met a warlock like him before; perhaps it was because he was young. His inexperience was somewhat intriguing, which surprised himself. And that mouth of his…

Jongin suppressed a shiver, feeling tingles run down his spine. He would do almost anything to kiss him again.

But he was busy with celestial, heavenly things. It wouldn’t be right by Kyungsoo to give him hopes for something more, when Jongin was possibly going to be annihilated by the end of the week. That thought formed a lump in his throat. All he could settle for was the assurance of showing Kyungsoo a good time and the hope that they might meet again. Maybe, on the slim chance things turned out a little different.

Shaking his thoughts aside, Jongin put on some worn pyjamas. For now, there was Luhan to face.

Everything seemed so clear, and he’d been so sure in the cave at the time. But now his resolve was shaky, and he wasn’t sure why he was working so hard for someone he didn’t particularly care for.

When he stepped out of the shower, Luhan was still waiting. Jongin figured he might as well make himself comfortable because this was going to be a long story and made them both some tea. He put the kettle on the stove and settled on his messy, unmade bed with a sigh.

“Don’t hold back anything, you hear? Tell me _everything_ ,” Luhan said, almost sternly.

“Fine,” Jongin tutted, and proceeded to tell him the series of events that had transpired up until this evening. Luhan shook his head at a lot of it, and ran his hand through his hair with a tense expression at some too.

Jongin slumped further unto his bed. “So,” he said, “what do you make of it all?”

“What do I make of it?” Luhan repeated, “God, Jongin, I can’t believe you were stupid enough to take up Suho’s offer. He was an old, old warlock, you couldn’t have expected him to make any sound decisions.”

“Hey,” Jongin snapped, more than a little insulted, “he took care of me. And it’s all very easy for you to say, but being a proper warlock really means a lot to me.”

Luhan took a deep breath and exhaled. “Okay, you’re right, Jongin. That didn’t come out the way I wanted it to.”

Jongin pursed his lips and lifted a brow.

“Don’t get sassy with me, young man,” Luhan scowled, “Look, with all objectivity, I think there’s something not quite right about all this. The Princess went back to the moon,” he enunciated, “and there’s no record of her having ever returned, much less sealed away into a mirror.

“In fact, the only story I can think of that can corroborate this is that one fairy tale about a man who saw divine maidens bathing in a spring and stole one of their robes so she’d be forced to stay.”

“And?” Jongin asked tonelessly.

“And, if you were Princess of the Heavens, you wouldn’t take it lying down, would you?” Luhan asked, “I suspect she must’ve put a fight, especially if the man had stolen her celestial robe after all. You have it, don’t you?”

Jongin pointed at his walk-in wardrobe. There wasn’t much clothes in there, it was mostly just a room where he dumped his stuff if he had nowhere else to put them. The celestial robe was in one of the lower shelves, half covered by one of his ratty shirts for safety.

“That doesn’t look very safe,” Luhan remarked, “anyone could walk in and just… take it.”

“You’re the only one aside from Suho who’s ever come into my apartment,” Jongin replied, “I doubt anyone else would have the nerve to come in if they know who I am.”

“But still,” Luhan griped, “it’s the celestial robe. You don’t just hide under your dirty laundry.” Jongin rolled his eyes. Kaguya wasn’t specific on how the robe had to be kept anyway. And it wasn’t like his clothes could sully the celestial robe.

“Anyway,” Luhan dragged his eyes away from his wardrobe, “I just think Kaguya might’ve been sealed away because she was a danger to the people on Earth. You, releasing her like this,” he shook his head, “I’m not sure what might happen.”

“She might not actually freeze time,” Jongin mused, though it hardly seemed likely. Trap any lady in a mirror for hundreds of years, she was bound to get a little nasty and vengeful. Jongin too knew a thing or two about revenge and how it could consume his every thought to the point where it terrified him. 

But if he was honest with himself, Jongin had his reservations about Kaguya too. There was something about her demeanour that didn’t entirely speak of otherworldly princess behaviour.

“I think she would,” Luhan said flatly, echoing Jongin’s thoughts, “is there no way for me to convince you that maybe this is overdoing it quite a bit?”

Jongin shook his head. “There’s nothing you can say. I’m pretty sure she’d spare us warlocks anyway.”

“It’s not the bit about us surviving this,” Luhan said, “we’d survive, of course. It’s the part where you betray humanity that concerns me, Jongin. Can you live with yourself, knowing that you’re damning every living soul into eternal night?” 

Jongin felt very cold all of a sudden. He hugged his arms around himself. “I—” he hesitated.

He thought of Sehun’s eyes, never to open again. His cold hands, his alabaster skin deathly pale. The choking smell of smoke filling the air, the ashes that rose with his every footstep at first twilight. And unexpectedly, Kyungsoo suddenly came to mind.

_What would he think of you?_

The high-pitched squeal of boiling water in the kettle interrupted his thoughts.

Jongin jumped a little, and got up to turn the stove off. He poured hot water into mugs where teabags lay waiting, and brought them both back into his room where Luhan waited. Steam wafted from the mugs; Luhan sniffed at his mug tentatively.

“Chamomile?” he guessed.

Jongin nodded. It calmed him on nights when he couldn’t sleep well. He let his teabag soak on the dresser while Luhan sipped slowly.

“So,” Luhan said nonchalantly, “I forgot to ask about Kyungsoo earlier.”

Jongin nearly choked on his saliva. He cleared his throat, coughing lightly. “What about him?” he said, in the most casual voice he could manage. Luhan gave him a sort of sly smile.

“ _Please_ , stop pretending. From the way you were looking at Kyungsoo the other night, you were probably imagining eating him out. Did ya sleep with him? He looked like a virgin to me, though I suppose you never really know unless you do the do…” Jongin sputtered, feeling his ears turn red.

“Will you _shut up_?” his voice rose, “what I do with whoever in my free time is my business.”

“You did then?” Luhan nodded, widening his eyes and glancing at the marks on his neck. Jongin covered his neck pointedly and decided not to answer.

“Ugh,” Luhan made a face when he realized Jongin wasn’t going to rise up to take the bait. He leaned on one hand and sipped at his tea. “You’re no fun, Jongin,” he muttered, “and that’s why you’re still single.”

Hot tea splashed on Jongin’s bedroom floor seconds later, and Luhan was flung out of the apartment on his ass.

 


	3. Chapter 3

Kyungsoo was exiting his office building, yawning after a long day of toiling when he noticed someone walking down the street.

He wasn’t sure of who he was looking at initially, rubbing his tired eyes with a finger. He squinted, willing his astigmatism to clear up just a bit so he could see more clearly. His heart leapt immediately into his throat when he realized who it was; _Jongin._

Kyungsoo stiffened at once in the middle of the street.

What was he supposed to do? Walk off and pretend he never saw Jongin? Stand there and hope Jongin noticed him first? Or call out and say hi? What was the appropriate behaviour for someone who got drunk, made out and shared a bed with another?

 _Jesus, he’s hot_ , he thought impulsively.

He was truly a sight to behold after going five days without seeing him. Memory did him no justice; Jongin looked incredibly attractive in nothing but jeans and a white shirt and walking down the street like he owned it.

But Kyungsoo noticed he looked a little upset, as if his mind was preoccupied by something. His head hung down as he walked, his nose crinkled in deep thought.

“Jongin,” Kyungsoo whispered, breathless.

From forty feet away, Jongin’s head whipped up. Kyungsoo chortled when they made eye contact. _Did he hear me?_ Kyungsoo panicked internally. He’d said his name without even realizing; had he spoken louder than he realized?

Jongin began to pick up his pace, seeming to recognize Kyungsoo. This was honestly what Kyungsoo wanted ever since Jongin left that note in his apartment, to meet in the most unexpected of circumstances. It was terribly romantic and unrealistic, but Kyungsoo thought it would mean that they were destined to cross paths all along. But he certainly never thought it would actually _happen_ , and he hadn’t expected this influx of unrecognizable, fervent emotions inside.

 _It’s his eyes_ , Kyungsoo thought, heart rate picking up as Jongin smiled gently. _It’s like he’s looking right into me._

”Fancy running into you,” Jongin said, as soon as Kyungsoo was within earshot.

Kyungsoo opened his mouth to say something, but couldn’t think of anything and shut it again. Jongin’s voice, Jongin’s scent, everything about him up close scrambled his every capacity to function like a normal human being.

“You just got off work?” Jongin asked.

“Um, yeah,” Kyungsoo said, lifting his gaze to meet Jongin’s eyes once. He looked away when he realized Jongin was staring him quite intensely, like his entire focus was now on Kyungsoo, and Kyungsoo alone.

“Great,” Jongin smiled wryly, “Luhan’s place is nearby, and… I’m free for dinner if you are.”

Kyungsoo gaped at him like a stunned goldfish. “I-I… um,” he dithered, unsure of what to say. Jongin was just so forward it caught him offguard, and he didn’t have any alcohol on hand to help ease his nerves.

“I’ll take that as a yes, then,” Jongin said, and offered his arm. Kyungsoo took it almost without thinking and like the last time they met, he felt nothing. Jongin began to tug Kyungsoo along and like a bumbling fool, Kyungsoo fell into step beside him. It was quiet at first, and Kyungsoo’s mind struggled to come up with topics for conversation.

“Were you following me?” he blurted. Jongin laughed.

“No, I was actually on my way to Luhan’s place because we had a minor tizz the other day and I wanted to apologize. I didn’t know you worked nearby, or else maybe I might’ve made more of an effort to hang around here,” Jongin replied.

Kyungsoo turned red. “Oh,” was all he managed to say.

So Jongin had been looking forward to seeing him too. Or was it just sweet talk? People could be so deceiving sometimes, and Jongin was hard to read. He was like a book written in a language that wasn’t completely familiar to Kyungsoo. Almost like he could grasp the meanings, but never truly understand the whole picture.

“So, how was work?” Jongin asked, glancing at Kyungsoo.

“Um, alright,” he answered, “had a pretty long day in the office. My manager demands a lot, but his heart is in the right place. He just wants the campaign to be great, just like the rest of us employees.”

“Don’t think I hear a lot of people say that about their boss,” Jongin laughed.

“I suppose I’m lucky,” Kyungsoo said almost distractedly. Then he quickly remembered that this was an opportune time to ask Jongin questions in return. “What about you? Did you just get off work too?” he asked, trying to brighten his voice in an effort to sound interested.

A strained look came over Jongin’s face, like he wished Kyungsoo hadn’t asked that question.

“I… don’t have a job for now,” Jongin replied, which Kyungsoo thought was terribly vague. Perhaps he was in the mob. That certainly wouldn’t count as a ‘job’ in the context that Kyungsoo meant.

“I was sorta working for this guy up until two weeks ago,” Jongin went on, unaware of Kyungsoo’s internal monologue. “He was kind of old, and needed someone to take care of him. But he wasn’t just some old dude, he was knowledgeable on a lot of things and,” he shrugged, “it was nice to be in his company, as weird as that sounds. And apart from the occasional odd job, he didn’t ask much from me. Then he passed away quite suddenly, and I have yet to find something to do ever since.”

Was that why he was so upset on the day they crossed paths? From what he was hearing, it sounded like Jongin looked up to his previous employer like a father figure. He said just as much, and was surprised to see Jongin nod.

“Yeah, I never knew my father so Suho— that’s his name— was the closest thing I had to a dad. He never married, and… I dunno, maybe he saw me as a son too.” Jongin smiled a little tightly at that. Kyungsoo was immediately sorry that he ever asked about Jongin’s employment, though he was secretly charmed by his honesty.

“I see,” Kyungsoo replied, “I um, I didn’t have a great relationship with my parents too. I mean we’re alright, but it’s…” Kyungsoo made a vague gesture.

They weren’t exactly ecstatic to find out their son could feel other people’s emotions at just eight years old. They tolerated it, but Kyungsoo could tell they thought it was freaky, like he was violating someone’s privacy on purpose every time he brushed up against them by accident.

Jongin laughed quietly. “You don’t have to say that to make me feel better. I’m over it,” he reassured Kyungsoo.

“I’m not,” Kyungsoo insisted, though he stopped at that because he couldn’t feel Jongin’s emotions. Had he said the right thing, or made it worse somehow? Kyungsoo honest couldn’t tell. With Jongin, it was like stumbling in the dark with nothing more than instinct to rely on.

Jongin smiled at him anyway, which made Kyungsoo feel a lot better. 

At S.Wine, the place was in full swing. Jazz music played, and drinks were being served all round. Nearly all the tables were full, and the bar was filled with people too, most of them waiting for an empty table. Luckily, Jongin had the magic touch and only needed to wave at Luhan.

In the next minute, a ‘Reserved’ plaque was removed from a table for two and a waitress showed them their seats. Jongin pulled up a chair for Kyungsoo, to which he mumbled a shy thank you as he sat down.

“I guess this is one of the perks of having a friend who owns a restaurant,” Jongin said as he settled into his seat, “you get to steal other people’s reservations,” he gave a wicked grin. Kyungsoo’s mouth dropped open.

“Did we?” he asked in a choked voice.

“Oh, yeah, we did,” Jongin replied, flipping through the menu, “but don’t worry about it. Their date can’t be more important than ours,” he winked. Kyungsoo felt a fit of giggles bubbling up in his throat like hysteria. He wanted to kiss and shake Jongin by the shoulders violently at the same time.

And maybe it was written on his face, because Jongin looked up and gave him a dry but amused look. “Look, don’t worry about it. Just put yourself first for once.”

Kyungsoo was stunned into silence by that statement. He was about to argue that he did put himself first in many occasions, but shut himself up when he realized that it had been a while since he thought of himself first, rather than others. It was just an ingrained habit of his after having to deal with his abilities all these years.

As he pretended to look through the menu (the salmon actually looked pretty good), Kyungsoo wondered if Jongin really was as loud as the way he looked. He was seeing a different side to him today, one that he hadn’t expected Jongin to have.

The night they met, he was suave, all out to get into Kyungsoo’s pants. The Jongin he was looking at right now was almost… normal. If Kyungsoo allowed it, he could almost picture Jongin as— dare he even think of it?— his boyfriend.

He blushed at the turn his thoughts were taking. They did what, a bit of kissing and now they were boyfriends? Although he did fall asleep in Jongin’s arms…

“Are you ready to order?”

Kyungsoo startled in his seat, and looked up to find an impatient looking waitress pursing her lips at him.

“Yes, I’ll have the baked chicken and the Caesar salad. And two glasses of Sauvignon Blanc, please,” Jongin said, sparing Kyungsoo a moment to scan through the menu for whatever sounded plausible. He rattled off with the first dish he could read and handed the menu back to the waitress.

“For the Sauvignon, we only sell that by the bottle, sir,” the waitress informed Jongin.

“We’ll have the bottle then,” Jongin smiled up at her sweetly. She was understandably charmed of course, and her mood seemed to brighten considerably as she walked off with their order. Jongin, blissfully unaware, returned his attention to Kyungsoo.

“I can’t tell if you were trying to impress me or her,” Kyungsoo said drily.

“Were you jealous?” Jongin bit down on his lip, sliding his foot against Kyungsoo’s calf under the table. Kyungsoo narrowed his eyes at Jongin.

“No. Should I be?” Kyungsoo asked, playing dumb.

“Never,” Jongin purred, “you’re the only one on my mind tonight.”

The white wine was served. They meandered through various topics of conversation while waiting for their food, from where Jongin learned wine-poultry pairings (Suho taught him), to Kyungsoo’s habit of adjusting his cuffs when he was feeling particularly nervous.

“Stop moving your hands,” Jongin laughed at one point, placing his hands over Kyungsoo’s. He almost expected foreign emotions to start pouring in from Jongin’s touch the way it always happened, but again— nothing.

Kyungsoo couldn’t describe the way he felt; pure happiness, maybe. He felt at ease for once with someone, who for whatever reason, could not send his emotions to him. Except that one time, but it didn’t seem like there would a repeat any time soon.

“What’re you smiling about?” Jongin asked, when the food was served and they began taking their first bites. Kyungsoo had somehow ordered tilapia pan fried with butter and herbs, which was scrumptious nonetheless. Jongin, meanwhile, was digging into his chicken like there was no tomorrow.

“Nothing, just… I’m enjoying your company a lot more than I thought I would,” Kyungsoo said, keeping his eyes trained on his food.

“Oh, really?” Jongin said, sounding a little surprised, “well, I hope your good mood lasts, because we haven’t even gotten to dessert yet. Here, have some of my salad,” Jongin plopped a few pieces of lettuce onto Kyungsoo’s plate.

It was a clumsy attempt, but Kyungsoo appreciated it. Just to be like this with another person… he never thought it possible until now.

After the food, Jongin ordered another bottle of wine. Kyungsoo tried to stop him, but Jongin reassured him that his dead employer left him more than enough money to live by. “I don’t really like having large sums of money on me anyway,” Jongin wrinkled his nose.

“You do realize that the entire Earth’s population will disagree with that statement and call you a liar?” Kyungsoo said.

“But having a lot of money means people might steal it from you,” Jongin replied almost indignantly, “and if you let it, money holds power over you. And nothing should hold power over my life, except for myself. Besides, the economy needs people like me. Luhan certainly doesn’t complain,” Jongin smiled wryly.

Kyungsoo supposed he could understand that philosophy. _Don’t be greedy, just give back what you’ve received._ He swirled the last of his white wine in his glass. If his life was simpler, he would’ve liked living a life like that.

“Ooh, they restocked on the Dolcetto,” Jongin said excitedly, breaking through the cloud of Kyungsoo’s gloomy thoughts.

A waiter came by their table with a new bottle, and poured them red wine this time in fresh glasses. “If there’s anything you should get drunk on, it’s this,” Jongin tapped at his glass, “it’s one of the fruitiest reds out there. A lot of flavour in one sip.”

“You’re trying to get me drunk?” Kyungsoo asked, sniffing at his glass. He couldn’t tell much from the scent; all wines smelled the same to him. He figured it would taste good at least, and drank some. When the wine went down, it was like a grape had exploded in his mouth. Fruity was a _mild_ way of putting it.

“I’m not _trying_ to get you drunk, but I do think wine loosens you up a bit,” Jongin smirked.

“What makes you think I need wine to loosen up around you?” Kyungsoo asked offhandedly, putting his glass down. A moment later, he realized he sounded like a complete tart and tried to explain himself.

“Wait, no, that’s not what I meant—” he tried to say, but Jongin was already chuckling at him.

“Well, well, I guess we don’t need the wine after all,” Jongin said slyly, “or maybe we can just take it away, bring it back to my place where we can continue from where we left off the other night.” He lifted a brow suggestively. Kyungsoo covered his burning face with both hands.

“I don’t— Oh, for fuck’s sake, can’t we just—?” Kyungsoo struggled to speak. Jongin waited till he gave up.

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to in my apartment,” Jongin said, “I assure you, you can walk out any time you want to. This makes us even anyway. I know where you live, you know where I live?” Kyungsoo wished he didn’t have such a devastating smile.

“Ugh, I— Okay,” he mumbled, cheeks burning red. He was going to go up in flames if Jongin did anything else.

Like a true gentleman, Jongin picked up the bill and paid for it with a card. Luhan personally recorked their bottle and put it in a paper bag for them, along with a ‘surprise gift’.

“Stay safe, lads,” Luhan pointed his finger guns at them, “I got my eyes on you both.” Jongin rolled his eyes good-naturedly, while Kyungsoo prayed fervently that Luhan wouldn’t spill all of this to his colleagues. He could only imagine the things Baekhyun would say, and the kind of side looks he would get from Minseok.

“So, my place?” Jongin asked when they stepped out, clutching the wine like it was his purse in one hand.

The night wind was crisp, cooling after a bright sunny day. It tousled Jongin’s hair, the soft curls framing his features ever so delicately. Kyungsoo resisted the urge to run his hands through his hair by clamping down on his fists.

“Sure,” he shrugged, feigning an indifference that he didn’t feel. His heart was beating right out of his chest because the last time they were in a room alone, Kyungsoo got his pants off.

Now that they were sober and had the rest of the night to themselves, he wasn’t sure if he could stop himself from going all the way with Jongin. Although truth be told, he wasn’t sure if he _wanted_ to stop himself in the first place…

Jongin smiled like he knew what Kyungsoo was thinking. “Come on, then. Bus stop’s just around the corner.”

-

The ride on the bus was relatively quiet, with Kyungsoo staring out of the window in fascination as the city went by. Previously, he tried to keep his outings limited to daytime, so it was rare for him to see Seoul’s skyline at night. And it was stunning, all the little bright lights dotting the blue velvet darkness like a thousand galaxies.

He tried not to look out of the windows too much, but Jongin must’ve caught on anyway.

“Nice view, isn’t it?” he asked, motioning to the window with his thumb. They were standing since the seats were all occupied, facing each other as they held on to their respective poles. Kyungsoo laughed in embarrassment.

“Y-yeah,” he replied, “I just… I haven’t been out at night like this in a while.” The bus lurched as the driver took a sharp turn.

“So that night at the bar was a rare moment as well?” Jongin lifted his eyebrows. Kyungsoo nodded reluctantly, hoping he didn’t come off as some kind of recluse. That was who he _was_ ; now, he was looking to change things.

“Lucky me, then, hm?” Jongin smiled. Kyungsoo bit down on his lip.

Any doubts about what Jongin intended to do when they got back to their apartment went flying out of his head. The charming man he’d met at Luhan’s bar was back in full force, dripping seduction and charm off his fingertips. Kyungsoo wished he wasn’t so— _gullible_. Surely Jongin could read him like an open book?

They fell into silence for a while, both of them biding their time till it was time for them to get down. Above Kyungsoo’s head, a small display screen was airing a local news channel.

A reporter seemed to be interviewing two men— possibly experts— about the full moon. There was no volume, so it was hard to catch on to what they were saying, but Kyungsoo was sure they weren’t talking about anything new. Worldwide, everyone were dumbfounded each night as the full moon persisted in the skies.

“Oh, looks like this is our stop,” Jongin said, peering out of the window once more. He pressed the buzzer on his left, and soon the bus slowed to a stop by a sidewalk of a residential area.

When Kyungsoo got down, he saw that it was mostly apartments around, a lot like his place, except the area looked a little more expensive and well-kept. Jongin had mentioned over dinner that his ex-employer had leased one of his many properties to Jongin; he supposed his employer was a very well-to-do person, if he could afford an apartment here as well as several others. 

“It’s a nice area,” Kyungsoo remarked, looking around. The sidewalk had a strip of grass running alongside the path, trim and neat.

“Mm. I’ve lived here for about a year now. It’s a nice, quiet neighbourhood and everyone minds their own business here,” Jongin said, holding out a hand to Kyungsoo. This time, he took it without hesitation, and felt a burst of emotion— his own— at being able to hold someone else without the overpowering sensation of the other’s feelings.

Jongin led him through a small path, clearly familiar with the place as they wound through smaller roads and finally came upon an apartment building entrance.

Jongin waved at the security guard, who tipped his cap back at him. They walked through with ease. It was mostly dark, save for spots lit by streetlights. From what Kyungsoo could see, it was a very modern apartment building, with lots of neat bushes lining the paths. Cars were parked to one side, and he spotted a gym too.

On the ground floor of the building itself, the corridor where elevators stood at ready was spotless, but also very quiet. _Guess Jongin wasn’t joking when he said it was a quiet area_ , Kyungsoo thought. He supposed it wasn’t exactly a family-friendly place.  

In any case, they got on the elevator and went all the way up to the twentieth floor. Jongin brought him to the second door on the right, and unlocked the door with his keys. Kyungsoo’s heart rate began to pick up one more when he took off his shoes.

 _This is really happening_ , he thought. He was about to have one-night stand, or two-night stand if you counted the first time.

It was safe to say that he had no idea what he was supposed to do from hereon out; was he supposed to jump on Jongin and rip off his clothes? Let Jongin jump on him and rip off his clothes? Maybe he should’ve thought of this a little more carefully…

“Come in,” Jongin said with a small smile, interrupting Kyungsoo’s thoughts. He already had the door open, and flicked on a light switch. Kyungsoo shuffled in past Jongin, and took in the sight of his apartment.

First of all, there was nothing to look at. A plain, blue sofa sat in the living room against a wall. Blankets were draped over it messily. A non-descript tall lamp stood in the corner. The sofa faced a flat screen TV, and there were some gaming paraphernalia in a mess on the ground below it. Off to the left, an equally plain kitchen and dining table for four. The only thing with personality was the clock on the wall, shaped in head of Rilakkuma bear.

“I like what you’ve done to the place,” Kyungsoo commented. Jongin laughed, tossing his keys into a small basket by the door.

“Don’t be nasty,” Jongin teased, “I didn’t think I’d be bringing someone home tonight. Otherwise I might’ve cleaned up to impress you.”

“Oh? And cleaning up consists of folding the blanket on the couch over there?” Kyungsoo laughed. He had no idea where the sudden confidence was coming from. Recklessness off the adrenaline, maybe. Or maybe it was the way Jongin was looking at him as he set the wine on the dining table…

He took three steps towards Kyungsoo, keeping his eyes trained on him like a tiger would on its prey. Kyungsoo swallowed thickly, trying his best not to look intimidated. Then Jongin was standing before him, and Kyungsoo sighed in contentment when Jongin’s hands came up to his face. With surprising gentleness, Jongin kissed Kyungsoo.

Kyungsoo brought his hands up to Jongin’s waist, pulling him as close as he dared. Jongin slipped his tongue past Kyungsoo’s mouth, licking boldly. _He kisses so well_ , Kyungsoo thought dimly.

He hummed in appreciation when Jongin nibbled on his upper lip. Cautiously, Kyungsoo’s hand travelled upwards to tug on Jongin’s soft, silvery hair.

Jongin broke off to smile at him, a finger caressing his cheek. “Come on,” Jongin whispered, peppering kisses from the corner of his mouth to his jaw line. Hooking his thumbs into Kyungsoo’s belt loops, Jongin tugged him down a hallway, where a bedroom awaited at the end.

Just like last time, they fumbled in the dark, neither of them really bothered with the lights. Kyungsoo dropped his jacket on the ground, followed by his belt. Jongin continued to kiss him languidly as he undressed, hands busy with Kyungsoo’s buttons. He did this _thing_ , varying pressure against Kyungsoo’s mouth. It was soft, hard, then soft again… Kyungsoo felt delirious from lack of air. He couldn’t bring himself to stop kissing Jongin.

They stumbled backwards slowly, until Jongin flopped onto his bed. Breathing heavily now, Kyungsoo climbed over him and pulled off Jongin’s shirt, tossing it to one side.

Jongin was all tan skin underneath, prettier than he remembered. Not an inch was marred; he was all sharp lines and perfection. Kyungsoo didn’t even realize he was running his fingers over his chest until Jongin spoke up.

“Like what you see?” he asked. Kyungsoo jolted at once, and reddened.

“Well… yeah,” Kyungsoo admitted reluctantly. Jongin laughed, covering his mouth with a hand. Kyungsoo huffed.

“Stop laughing,” Kyungsoo muttered, “it’s not my fault you’re so… so nice to look at.”

“Ah, yes,” Jongin grinned, laughter shaking his chest. He crossed his arms behind his head, looking up at Kyungsoo. “You said something like that the other night too. But I think it was something about my eyes…”

“You do have nice eyes,” Kyungsoo mumbled, “are they contacts?” He leaned in closer for a look. They certainly didn’t _look_ like contacts; Kyungsoo always thought coloured lenses looked too artificial in low lights to be real. But Jongin’s eyes had appeared a warm, chocolate brown at S.Wine, darkening according to his surroundings.

It was at that moment Kyungsoo remembered he was crouched between his legs, and if he leaned any closer, they would’ve kissed.

Jongin’s breath ghosted over his skin, sending goosebumps prickling all over his body. Kyungsoo sat back slowly, clearing his throat. Jongin gave him an infuriating smirk.

“Can I ask you something?” Kyungsoo asked quietly. Jongin nodded.

“What did… what did we do, exactly? I don’t remember much from the other night,” Kyungsoo confessed, “but I remember getting _really_ drunk, and I woke up with my pants off. But then you left that note saying we didn’t do anything, and I’m just a little blurry on the details right now,” Kyungsoo blushed, wringing his wrists nervously.

“Well for starters, you wanted to see _me_ without my pants on,” Jongin said nonchalantly. Kyungsoo choked hoarsely.

“And then you said, I quote, ‘You have a nice dick,’ unquote,” Jongin continued.

Kyungsoo felt like he was going to pass out. Obviously, he didn’t remember _that_. He certainly wouldn’t have the fucking nerve to come all the way to Jongin’s apartment if he knew what kind of impression Jongin had about him.

“Oh my God,” he said quietly, under his breath. Jongin chuckled, taking one of his hands.

“Hey, it’s alright. You were drunk, I was drunk… it’s not the first time anyone’s ever said something silly while intoxicated,” Jongin tried to reassure him. Kyungsoo nodded vaguely and made a choked noise in his throat, clambering off Jongin to sit on the bed.

“I’m. Um. I’m gonna need a minute for all this,” Kyungsoo said, pressing his hands to his face. He was going to need a moment (and a lifetime of therapy) to process the shame if they were going to have any proper sex tonight.

Jongin laughed. “Look, I’ll go to the kitchen, get you a drink, maybe a snack, and when I come back, you’ll be over it. Alright?” Jongin said with a wicked smile, and leaned over for a kiss on Kyungsoo’s cheek.

That made Kyungsoo smile just a tiny bit, which seemed to satisfy Jongin. He got off the bed and went out, presumably to the kitchen.

 _He’s right_ , Kyungsoo thought, _it’s such a small thing to be embarrassed about._

Both of them were drunk, and some clothes came off and some inappropriate comments were made; so what? At least Kyungsoo was now in full control of his head and senses. Which meant this was an opportunity to redeem himself once and for all.

He could be seductive, if he wanted to. He’d never tried before, but surely it wasn’t that hard?

Kyungsoo got off the bed at once, pulling off his socks and kicking off his pants as quickly as he could manage. Outside, Jongin was whistling a tune, and there were a few noises that Kyungsoo could hear, like the opening and closing of the fridge door, the rustle of a plastic wrap being ripped off.

It was a spur-of-the-moment idea, and he only had seconds to do it. He was going to have to do it right too, if he was to seduce Jongin. Completely naked now, Kyungsoo ran into Jongin’s walk-in wardrobe soundlessly, rummaging through the dark for something that he could use.

 _A scarf or something_ , he thought, searching in the dark frantically. He found coats, shirts, sweaters, sweatpants, but no scarf. Maybe Jongin wasn’t big on scarves, then.

 _Fine_ , he thought, _anything with colour will do_. Because if there was one thing he learned at his job so far, it was that colour could go a long way in influencing a viewer’s mood. Since most of his wardrobe was black or blue, Kyungsoo would need something that popped, like red or purple.

He got down on his knees to search the lower shelves, and that was when he spotted a pink glimmer.

It was hidden under another black shirt, which Kyungsoo tossed aside. The pink article of clothing was beautiful, sheer and softer than anything Kyungsoo had ever touched. He shook it out, and saw that it was a scarf after all, though it’d be useless in winter.

It was thin as hell, but it was all he needed for tonight. Casting all doubts and thoughts aside, Kyungsoo jumped on the bed and began to arrange the scarf over himself.

It was feather light, like the gentle caress of a lover on his skin. However, it was a little too light, in his opinion. He thought he couldn’t feel it in some places, as if it had floated off him. Regardless, he wrapped a loop of it around his arm and leaned on it, then arranged himself in a (hopefully) sexy position, facing the empty doorway.

He was just trying to school his expression into a suggestive sort of look when he heard Jongin’s footsteps. _Just in time_ , Kyungsoo thought.

His heart was practically beating in his ears, a lump stuck in the back of his throat when Jongin walked in, holding the bottle of wine from dinner in one hand and a bag of chips in the other. He didn’t notice Kyungsoo right away, putting the wine down on the dresser by the bed at first.

Then Jongin looked up, and did a double take when he realized Kyungsoo was nude and on his bed, wrapped up in a fancy-looking scarf. His mouth dropped open, clearly in shock. Kyungsoo laughed nervously.

“Hey,” he said, trying to sound casual, “like what you see?”

Jongin covered his open mouth. He looked like he was caught between feeling aroused and horrified. Kyungsoo couldn’t quite tell why; was it the scarf? Maybe it was a special memento or something. It would explain why it was so thin and so decorative, not to mention rather feminine. _Oh, God, what if it’s his mother’s?_ he thought.

“Oh God,” Kyungsoo said aloud, “I’ve done something wrong again, haven’t I?”

“No,” Jongin shook his head. He set the bag of chips down on the ground; it was a miracle he hadn’t dropped it to the ground and sent crumbs going everywhere. He ran his hands over his face and dragged his fingers through his hair, taking everything in. He said no, but it certainly felt like Kyungsoo had done something wrong.

“I— that’s not something I wear,” Jongin said, “it’s a special thing. Like an antique.” Kyungsoo was beyond mortified.

“Oh Jesus,” he scrambled to sit up and get it off, “Christ, Jongin, I’m so sorry—”

“No, no, you don’t have to apologize,” Jongin hurried over to his side, “I don’t use it for anything anyway, it’s… honestly fine. You just took me completely by surprise, is all.” He smiled, that soft, charming smile that was so rare to see. Kyungsoo smiled back, partly in embarrassment and another part in relief.

“You sure?” he said, “I just grabbed it out of your closet. Didn’t really have much time to think about it,” Kyungsoo laughed.

“It looks better on you than it did in the back of my closet,” Jongin replied, bringing a hand up to caress Kyungsoo’s hair. He leaned into his touch, humming slightly.

“You’re beautiful, Kyungsoo,” Jongin murmured, “has anyone ever told you that?” Kyungsoo turned a bright crimson, to which Jongin smiled once more.

This time, when Jongin leaned over, Kyungsoo knew to shut his eyes, feeling the heat radiating from Jongin’s body as they kissed. Jongin placed a warm hand on Kyungsoo’s waist, resting there like a weight. It burned like a brand; Kyungsoo moaned in his throat.

Suddenly Kyungsoo felt alive, the darkness coming into sharp focus. There was something so magic about Jongin. He was like a spark to Kyungsoo’s cooling embers, relighting in a fire in him that had long gone cold. 

Moving over to make space for Jongin, Kyungsoo curled his legs to one side as Jongin kissed him, more persistently this time. He explored Kyungsoo’s mouth without preamble, his tongue tangling with Kyungsoo’s easily. Jongin’s hands too roamed Kyungsoo’s body freely, trailing from his waist, up to his shoulders and back down to the small of his back. 

Kyungsoo purred into the kiss, slinging an arm around Jongin’s neck to hold him closer. Soon, Jongin was leaning over him as he sank all the way down onto the mattress.

Jongin broke off momentarily to kiss a wet trail from Kyungsoo’s mouth down to his chest. Then, almost like an afterthought, he began to suck purplish marks on Kyungsoo’s collarbone. Taken by surprise, Kyungsoo’s fingers dug into Jongin’s hair, groaning.

As if encouraged by the hair-pulling, Jongin moved on to another spot, sucking another mark there. Kyungsoo panted, eyes fluttering shut. All he could do was mutter incoherently when Jongin sucked at a particularly sensitive spot in the crook of Kyungsoo’s neck.   

In the meantime, Jongin’s hands were busy too, trailing heat as he grasped Kyungsoo’s half hard cock. Jongin’s golden-brown eyes flashed at him as he parted his legs, running a possessive hand down his inner thigh. With a gasp, Kyungsoo’s knees fell apart easily.

“So good for me,” Jongin murmured, pressing a kiss to Kyungsoo’s knee, “moan for me, will you?” He began to jerk Kyungsoo off slowly, sending jolts of electricity racing down Kyungsoo’s spine, all the way to his toes. Kyungsoo clapped a hand over his mouth instinctively, fisting the sheets tightly with his free hand.

He hovered over the edge of pain and pleasure, Jongin’s hand working at Kyungsoo’s cock insistently, until he stopped. Kyungsoo whimpered, slitting one eye open to see Jongin tutting away as he pulled Kyungsoo’s hand off his mouth.

“I didn’t come here to see you play coy, Kyungsoo,” he whispered, thumbing the head of Kyungsoo’s erect cock. It was flushed now, precome leaking.

“ _Ah_ ,” Kyungsoo gasped, then bit down on his lower lip.

“You’re with me,” Jongin said slowly, dipping a finger down the underside of Kyungsoo’s cock, “so I want all of you, or nothing at all.” At that moment, Jongin squeezed tight, and Kyungsoo cried out hoarsely.

“ _Jongin_ ,” he whined, almost involuntarily. Jongin’s smirk was enough to send blood rushing down to Kyungsoo’s cock once more. 

“That’s better,” Jongin smiled, moving his hand up and down rapidly over Kyungsoo’s cock. He almost sighed in relief, the quiet hum returning to his veins. Kyungsoo was so close to orgasm if Jongin just kept this up for another minute or so, release so close he could almost taste it—

One minute, Jongin’s hand was there; the next, it wasn’t. Kyungsoo’s eyes fluttered open, feeling bereft like he’d just been pulled out of a pleasant dream.

He shifted slightly, crinkling the sheets beneath him. The pink scarf was still draped over him, trailing down the length of his body and then some more. All that wine from dinner must’ve gone right to his head, because it looked like the scarf was floating…

As quick as he’d been gone, Jongin was back, this time with the bottle of wine and other smaller items in his hands that Kyungsoo couldn’t identify. Instead, Jongin let Kyungsoo grip the bottle, and nudged it to his lips. Kyungsoo tipped the bottle back, swallowing mouthfuls of the wine down. Jongin chuckled.

“I wasn’t trying to get you drunk, y’know,” he said, “just thought you might like a sip in case you were... thirsty.”

Kyungsoo wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand, putting the bottle on the ground by the bed. Jongin was seated on his haunches before him, still shirtless but now in his boxers. He made quick work with his clothes, but Kyungsoo was a little disappointed that he wasn’t naked yet. It wasn’t fair that he couldn’t remember how Jongin’s cock looked like.

“Can I?” he asked, a hand already reaching out for Jongin’s crotch. He didn’t wait for an answer, just groped at Jongin’s crotch till he found the outline of his cock.

It was a good size— he wasn’t excessively huge, but the thought of it inside him made his toes curl. Or maybe it was the fact that it was Jongin, and Kyungsoo had never wanted someone like this before. Kyungsoo dipped his fingers under the waistband, and felt for his cock. He didn’t have to dig deep before his fingers were curling around his length.

“You like cock a lot more than I thought you would,” Jongin said, leaning his head on Kyungsoo’s shoulder.

“Shut up,” Kyungsoo muttered, “I deserve to see what it looks like before you fuck me with it.” He pulled it out with some difficulty. Jongin lifted his hips slightly so Kyungsoo could pull at his boxers roughly till they were stuck at his knees.

“Easy,” Jongin said, brushing a hand over Kyungsoo’s cheek, “I’m not going anywhere else tonight.”

As Kyungsoo expected, it was a nice cock. There were veins trekking down the front, leading to the fat cockhead. He ran a finger over it, unaware that he’d sent shivers down Jongin’s spine. But what did Kyungsoo know about dick? This was the first time he’d seen anyone’s dick in real life.

“If you want to get to the good part, you can start with this,” Jongin suggested, holding something up to Kyungsoo’s face. He took it, and saw that it was an unopened condom. He looked up at Jongin, who gave him an encouraging smile.

Tearing the foil wrapper open, Kyungsoo placed the condom on Jongin’s cock and began to unroll it. He wasn’t being particularly meticulous for any reason, but Jongin seemed to think it was funny, and laughed at Kyungsoo’s pace. “You know, if I didn’t know any better, I would think that you don’t actually want me after all,” he remarked, to which Kyungsoo went red and said nothing.

It was possible that Kyungsoo was a teensy bit drunk now, but he was still sober enough to remember this. _And I want to_ , he thought, settling back when he was done.

_I want to remember all this, because I don’t know when I’ll see him again._

“You’ve been good so far, haven’t you?” Jongin said, palming one side of Kyungsoo’s face. “Mm,” Kyungsoo nodded, pleased that Jongin thought so.

“Then I think it’s time, no?” Jongin continued, his eyes at half-mast. Desire curled in the pit of Kyungsoo’s stomach once again.

Minutes later, Kyungsoo found himself pressed to the mattress, saliva staining Jongin’s sheets as his mouth hung open idly. A bottle of lube lay beside him, the cap still open from where Jongin had carelessly tossed it aside.

He would’ve moved to shut the cap, because he didn’t want to waste any lube. But Jongin had decided to finger _and_ eat his ass out at the same time, which sounded like too much all at once.

It was, but he couldn’t find himself to complain when he felt Jongin nosing at his entrance before his tongue began to lick and push.

Kyungsoo moaned, beyond the point of caring that he was being _way_ too loud. He fisted at his cock uselessly, his entire being concentrated on Jongin’s mouth doing the most obscene things with his tongue. The wet noises he made in the silence of the apartment seemed almost vulgar as well, second only to Kyungsoo’s heavy breathing.

“Spread your legs a little more,” Jongin said gruffly, voice muffled. Kyungsoo obeyed, inching them apart and sticking his ass out at Jongin. A moment later, Kyungsoo felt two cold fingers pressing relentlessly into his entrance, and it was all it took for him not to scream. Instead, he groaned into the mattress, the strange sensation of Jongin’s fingers moving in and out of him arousing but confusing at the same time.

The stretch hurt a bit, but he wanted something bigger too. He rocked his hips backwards to get more inside of him, but Jongin held him still, scissoring his entrance open. Kyungsoo’s legs shook from the intensity of it, and bit down hard on his lip.

“More. More, please,” Kyungsoo begged, reaching one hand behind him to spread his asscheek apart.

Jongin said nothing, but fitted a third finger right next to the ones already knuckle deep inside Kyungsoo. He made a garbled noise, holding back as Jongin whispered dirty promises. Distantly, Kyungsoo knew he could come from this if Jongin let him. But he also knew that Jongin wasn’t going to make it easy for him, and wasn’t very surprised when his fingers pulled out with a wet pop.

He felt Jongin repositioning himself, placing a hand on the small of Kyungsoo’s back and lifting his hips higher. Kyungsoo did his best to hold himself up on shaky hands, and let the anticipation wash over him like the ocean tide.

“Let me know if it hurts, and I’ll stop,” Jongin said in a low voice, rubbing Kyungsoo’s waist reassuringly. Kyungsoo just nodded. Then he felt it, the press of Jongin’s cock at his entrance. It was tantalizing; _there_ , but not quite inside of him.

Kyungsoo whined in weak protest. “Please, Jongin, please…” he sighed, trying to rock back on his cock.

Jongin growled at him warningly, and he stopped, sobbing quietly into the mattress. Kyungsoo’s patience was soon rewarded, however, by the stretch of Jongin’s cock pushing into him at an agonizingly slow pace. “ _Oh_ , _Jongin_ — fuck,” he said with feeling. It hurt, but his cock filled him up like nothing else could.

“Fuck, fuck,” Kyungsoo whispered, struggling to keep his legs up.

“You like this, don’t you?” Jongin asked, digging his fingers cruelly into Kyungsoo’s hair and tugging back. His hips moved in lazy circles. Kyungsoo thought he could see stars in his vision, golden and bright.

“You’re so tight,” Jongin grunted, “feels like you were made for me.”

“Faster,” Kyungsoo mumbled in a small voice. Jongin relented, keeping a firm hand on Kyungsoo’s waist as he moved, just a little faster now. It wasn’t like his fingers at all; this felt sinful, the lewd, slapping noises Jongin made as his hips connected with Kyungsoo’s ass.

His thrusts went in that much deeper when Jongin shoved Kyungsoo’s arms down, and he could feel every inch going in. “Oh, God, please,” Kyungsoo mumbled, no longer able to think straight.

“You should see this, you know,” Jongin said, panting as he spoke, “the way your ass just opens up for me…”

“Ah, _please_ ,” Kyungsoo begged. He was close again, so close. Jongin’s hands were gripping his hips hard too, as he pummelled again and again into Kyungsoo. The bruising force of it made Kyungsoo’s head spin deliriously, pushing him further to the edge of paradise.

 _Don’t slow down_ , was all Kyungsoo could think of. _Don’t slow down._

And he realized that Jongin was close too, because seconds, minutes later, he felt warmth spurting into the condom and Jongin went impossibly faster.

A series of _ah’s_ fell from Kyungsoo’s lips, increasing in volume until finally, white spurts of come splattered on the sheets. Multitudes of colours filled Kyungsoo’s vision, blinding him momentarily. A long, high-pitched cry escaped Kyungsoo’s throat, till there was no more breath left in him.

He dropped on the bed, limp and spent. Jongin’s cock pulled out, and the bed sunk on one side as Jongin lay beside him. Kyungsoo curled in his direction at once; an arm draped over his shoulder and pulled him close.

Kyungsoo felt filthy; used, even. But his heart warmed when he thought he felt Jongin press a close-mouthed kiss to his lips, his voice whispering good night in his ear.


	4. Chapter 4

_今はとて天の羽衣着るをりぞ、君をあはれと思ひいでける_ _◦_

_“The time has now come. Behold the robe from heaven to drape upon my shoulders. And for it, it is but a deep sadness that I feel.”_

 

_Jongin was sixteen when he met Sehun._

_He had wandered over to the lake nearby his grandma’s house, just by the farm. Usually, Jongin took naps on the edge of the lake, soaking his feet in the cool water._

_But that day, there was an unfamiliar boy rowing a boat in the lake, which struck Jongin as odd. The sea was thousands of miles away; what was a boy doing with a boat here?_

_Quietly, he’d observed the boy at first. He had a head of lush, dark hair, and pale skin. His arms appeared lanky, but strong as he rowed through the lake with even stroke, like he had somewhere to go. He looked Jongin’s age, and he’d never met anyone who looked so sure, so determined of himself._

_Perhaps that was what urged him to wave when the boy looked up for a brief moment. To his surprise, the boy smiled and waved back, as if meeting an old friend._

_Jongin dropped his hand, watching him turn the boat around and begin rowing towards him._

_“Hello,” the boy said cheerfully, when he reached Jongin’s side of the lake. The boat was large up close, bigger than Jongin expected. But it was nothing compared to seeing the boy with dark hair. His features were sharp, shoulders broad and wide._

_“Hello…” Jongin replied uncertainly._

_The boy smiled at first, then blinked. “Wow,” he said, “you have the strangest eyes.”_

_“O-Oh,” Jongin stammered, looking away at once. He had known that he was different from other children for a while now. And it was just two moons ago when his grandma finally told him why he didn’t have a father or mother, why they lived isolated from the nearest village. It was the same reason why he had light brown eyes, and silvery hair like an old man’s, instead of black._

_“They’re pretty,” the boy suddenly chirped. Jongin looked up at him, surprised again._

_“They are?”_

_“Yes,” the boy nodded earnestly. “Come in,” he motioned at Jongin. He stood on the boat and held out his hands to Jongin. “We can talk more here.”_

_His sudden kindness touched Jongin; no one had ever invited him to talk or play since he was five. He got on, without even thinking about what could’ve happened. There was just an honesty about the boy, that made him feel safe for the first time._

_They went off in a slow, large circle around the lake. Jongin twiddled his thumbs, unsure of what to say._

_“I’m Sehun,” the boy spoke first, sensing Jongin’s hesitance._

_“I’m Jongin,” he replied quietly. Sehun smiled at him, eyes curling into crescents._

_“Jongin,” he repeated, “I like it.”_

_He went on to ask Jongin simple questions, such as his age, whether he could read or write. Jongin said he was sixteen, and no, he couldn’t read or write, but he would’ve loved to learn. Sehun then promised he’d bring books and ink next time to teach him._

_The thought of a next time, however, was what put a light in Jongin’s eyes, rather than the books._

_Jongin also learned that Sehun was sixteen too, and came from the nearby village, just a few miles away from the lake. Sehun’s father had just returned from his travels, and brought home the boat they were in now._

_“What about your powers?” Sehun asked abruptly, “what can you do?”_

_Jongin blinked. How did he know? Had someone told him, the villagers, perhaps? Or maybe he’d seen it somehow. Jongin had made absolute sure only to use his powers in the dead of night, practicing control over naked flames by the lake to make sure he wouldn’t burn anything down…_

_Sehun laughed at his expression. “It’s your aura, Jongin. It’s like mine,” he said._

_Jongin’s face was still blank. Sighing, Sehun released the oars, and held out his hands to Jongin again._

_“Come on,” Sehun motioned for him to hold them. Reaching both hands out, Jongin took Sehun’s hands. They were a little rough, his fingers long and slim, but there was nothing remarkable about holding them._

_He waited. One second, two—_

_Jongin gasped abruptly. There was a thrum from Sehun’s hands he hadn’t noticed before, like the consistent hum of a hummingbird’s wings. Jongin’s mouth dropped open in utter shock. This was nothing like holding his grandma’s worn hands. There had never been anything like this with her, or any other person, in fact. Not that he had a lot to draw from experience…_

_“You’re a warlock,” Sehun said plainly, “don’t you know that?”_

_It was how their tentative friendship began. Meeting daily by the lake, Sehun would bring Jongin gifts every time. The first week, he brought book and ink as promised. He showed Jongin how to write a few characters and made him promise to practice more at home._

_The second week (on the nineth day), he brought Jongin a wooden toy, shaped like a fierce bear. “I bought it at the village,” he told Jongin, “the old man who carved it took ten days.” It was the prettiest toy Jongin had ever owned, and it took a special corner in his box of personal belongings, alongside the books Sehun gave him._

_The tenth day, Sehun’s hands were empty but he brought far more than nothing._

_“My parents tell me that my real father was a water dragon,” Sehun said, as they lay side by side in the sun._

_“Oh,” was all Jongin could come up with, “I never met mine.”_

_Sehun sat up, looking at Jongin. “But you still have his powers, don’t you?” Jongin shrugged._

_“Show me,” Sehun poked at his ribs playfully. Jongin shook his head and told him no, because he was afraid he’d hurt Sehun somehow. Fire was hard to control if he wasn’t concentrating, and Sehun was always distracting. “You show me first,” Jongin said instead._

_“Okay,” Sehun said, and stood up._

_He brushed the grass off his clothes, and went to the very edge of the lake, water lapping at his toes. Putting a hand to his eyes to shade the sunlight, Jongin watched. And because Sehun wasn’t facing him, Jongin couldn’t help but notice the slimness of Sehun’s arms, the curve of his throat._ He’s pretty too _, Jongin thought._

_Sehun didn’t move for what felt like a long time, his hands held out to the lake._

_Just as the sunlight glinting off the lake was starting to hurt his eyes, Jongin noticed the water in the lake beginning to churn. It darkened, as if there was a storm brewing. But this wasn’t the sea, and the skies above them were blue as ever._

_The waters began to twist and spin, sending light sprays showering over Jongin’s face. Sehun’s hands were shaking now, with an unseen force. Jongin was about to tell him_ enough _, that he believed Sehun now, when the water from the lake suddenly came up like a large wall. Jongin fell backwards, making an embarrassing noise in his throat that he would never admit to making._

 _It was a sight to behold; he could see the bottom of the lake and little fish swimming in panic inside the wall Sehun had created. Sehun stood there, facing the wall like it was nothing. He_ laughed _even, looking over his shoulder. “Look at this, Jongin! Look!”_

_And he did look. Sehun made a swiping motion with his hand, like he was wiping dirt off a wall. The wall of water swept itself away with the motion, crashing down to the side of the lake. Little droplets splashed all over them like rain._

_“Goodness,” Jongin breathed. Sehun came running over, and crouched before Jongin with a big smile on his face._

_“That was fun, right?”_

_Fun it was, but now Jongin’s turn had come to show Sehun what he could do. Sehun whined and complained, but Jongin absolutely refused.  He didn’t want to do it out in the open during the day, and told Sehun to come again at night._

_“Why do you hide your powers?” Sehun asked curiously._

_“I don’t want to hurt you,” Jongin replied honestly, “or anyone else.”_

_Abruptly, Sehun hugged him, crushing Jongin to his chest. Like this, Jongin realized that he only came up to Sehun’s shoulder._

_“You’re so nice,” Sehun said, breathing into Jongin’s neck. For the first time, Jongin’s ears turned red and no sound came out of his mouth._

_-_

_When nightfall came and Jongin’s grandma was fast asleep in her bed, Jongin sneaked out through the back entrance. His bare feet were silent as he ran to the lake where he’d promised to meet Sehun. It was a quiet night where not a sound could be heard. Even the stars looked like they’d found a place to hide for the night, save for the half moon that hung in the sky._

_To others, it might’ve seemed eerie to be alone in the dark like this but to Jongin, it was perfect._

_Jongin would never ever want to put Sehun in danger if someone found out that they were friends. Not that there was anything explicitly wrong, but Jongin sensed Sehun would get in trouble with the villagers if they knew…_

_“Sehun?” Jongin called, when he reached the lake. A movement caught his eye, and he spotted Sehun sitting by the edge of water, wearing dark clothing. Jongin went over, and saw that Sehun was dressed in a dark blue hanbok. He’d never seen Sehun in dark colours before, and it brought out the colour in his cheeks. It suddenly occurred to Jongin that he’d never seen Sehun’s mark before, that which set him apart from mortals._

_“So?” Sehun said excitedly, practically vibrating with excitement, “are you going to show me?” Jongin couldn’t understand why he was so excited to see but he nodded anyway. He sat beside Sehun and took a deep breath._

_“You’ll use your powers, right? If it gets out of control?” he asked Sehun. Sehun rolled his eyes._

_“There won’t be any use of my powers if you’d just hurry up,” Sehun said, gesturing for Jongin to hurry along. “Quickly,” he whispered, “there’s a festival going on and I can only slip away for a few minutes.”_

A festival? _Jongin thought. He hadn’t been to one since he was a young child, though he didn’t remember any festivals held during this particular time of the year._

_Nonetheless, he closed his eyes to concentrate, cupping his hands together. Jongin drew the flame from within, as he’d always done since the day he learned that fire could not burn him. Slowly, heat began to build between his hands. Colour blossomed in the back of his eyelids. When he opened his eyes, a small purple flame hovered in the hollow of his hands._

_Sehun was taken completely by surprise. Jongin had never told him that he could control fire, and it was downright fascinating to Sehun. He couldn’t seem to stop looking at the flame, and neither could he stop trying to touch it._

_“Don’t,” Jongin warned him, elbowing him one side._

_“But it’s purple, I’ve only ever seen orange flames—” Jongin diffused the flame, leaving nothing but the smell of smoke behind. Sehun pouted at him._

_“I wanted to touch,” Sehun complained. Jongin laughed lightly. “But you’d hurt yourself.”_

_“No, I wouldn’t,” Sehun shook his head, “I trust you.” Those words struck a chord in Jongin. He looked at Sehun, whose hair shone like wet ink in the darkness. Everything about him put all the goddesses, deities and gods Jongin knew to shame. Jongin didn’t think there could be anyone who looked as beautiful as Sehun._

_“I… need to go now,” Sehun said, after a moment. He looked away; Jongin thought he saw his cheeks redden. “I have to get back to the festival.”_

_He began to walk off, and Jongin stood too. He called out after him, “What festival is it?”_

_“It’s for me,” Sehun called back, “they think I’m the reincarnate of the water god.”_

_“Huh?” Jongin said to himself in confusion, watching Sehun walk in the direction of the village. Water god? So the villagers were worshipping Sehun?_

_He went back home, scratching his head. In any case, he figured he would ask Sehun about it tomorrow afternoon._

_-_

_Sehun didn’t show up on the eleventh day. Neither did he show up on the twelfth, thirteenth. It went on until the twentieth day. Jongin wasn’t tired of waiting, more curious as to why. He suspected it had something to do with being a reincarnate of the water god, and asked his grandma about it as they worked on the small vegetable farm they owned. Jongin would dig holes, while grandma planted the seeds._

_“The water god’s reincarnate? Why, yes, there’s one every generation,” his grandma told him, “the last time I heard it was a boy named Sejun, or Sehan, something like that. He’s around your age, I should think.”_

_“Oh,” Jongin replied. He supposed it was just another thing he missed out on, since he never grew up in the village._

_“You’re sixteen now, right?” his grandma asked._

_“Yeah,” Jongin grunted, using the spade to dig a small hole. It was hard work; Jongin felt sorry for his grandma and her bad back._

_“Well, there’ll be a festival about now, then,” she said, “to celebrate the reincarnate’s coming of age. He would be seen as a man now, by the villagers, and he will have to be responsible for all of them. He would have to bring us rain, keep floods away…” she chuckled lightly._

_“It sounds difficult to be a reincarnate of a god. Better to be normal, hm, Jongin?” she looked up at him. Her face, weathered and wrinkled, still shone with unconditional love. Jongin smiled and nodded, though he could never really claim to be normal._

_“Ah, Jongin,” his grandma noticed the sad look in his eyes, “you mustn’t worry so. You’ll find your place in the world soon,” she admonished him, “you’ve never met your mother but…” She shook her head, smiling bitterly._

_“She would’ve been proud to see you now.”_

_-_

_On the twenty-fifth day, while Jongin was napping, Sehun startled him awake by jumping on him._

_“Jongin,” he sing-songed, “Jonginnie, oh, how I’ve missed you!” Sehun hugged Jongin’s middle tightly. Jongin could do no more except pat him on the back awkwardly._

_“Hello,” he mumbled, stretching his hands over his head. He supposed he should’ve known that Sehun would slip in and out of his life unexpectedly. Sehun smiled up at him brightly. “I’m sorry I was gone for so long, Jongin,” he said, “I got held up back at the village. But I brought you sweets! Taste some, won’t you?”_

_Just like that, they found their rhythm again. Sehun dug out a crumpled package wrapped in paper from his clothes, opening it up to reveal an array of sweets._

_“This is made of peanut. That one— the green one— they’re honey cakes. This one is made of sugar and red bean, but I don’t really like it,” he made a face. Together, they tasted them all one by one._

_“Where did you get these?” Jongin asked, chewing on one made of nuts and caramel._

_“The villagers gave them to me,” Sehun simply replied, “my father told them I liked sweets.” It was a simple enough explanation, but Jongin knew nothing about Sehun and his family. He glanced at Sehun’s expression; he seemed to be in a good mood._

_“Sehun?”_

_“Hm?”_

_“Could you… tell me more about being the reincarnate of the water god?” Jongin asked softly._

_Sehun lifted an eyebrow, chewing on a sweet. He looked surprised to hear Jongin asking him about that. “It’s nothing big, you know,” Sehun answered, “I just… get special treatment is all. They make me go to ceremonies, I splash water around with a leaf. It’s nothing much. As long as I can control water, which is obviously a given.”_

_“But are you?” Jongin asked, “do you really think you’re the reincarnate of the water god?” Sehun shook his head, swallowing his sweet._

_“Of course not. I think I’d know if I was a god. I wouldn’t be_ me _, you know?” Then Sehun shrugged, “If that’s what it takes to keep our place in the village though, then why not, right?”_

_“Why, is there something wrong with your home?” Jongin said, alarmed._

_“No,” Sehun laughed, leaning back on his arms. He turned his head up to the sun, shutting his eyes. “There’s nothing_ wrong _with my home. But the villagers don’t know I’m a warlock. They just think I’m the reincarnate of Habaek ‘cause I showed some of the kids some of my water tricks once, and someone saw it happening,” Sehun opened his eyes to look at Jongin._

 _“But I can’t make it rain when I want it to, or stop a flood. I can only_ try _keep a flood away, though it’s never actually happened before. And I hope to God that it doesn’t,” Sehun laughed half-heartedly._

_Jongin felt almost sorry for Sehun, though he was proud at the same time. “I don’t…” he began, then stopped._

_“You don’t what?” Sehun arched a thin eyebrow._

_“I don’t expect you to make it rain. Or keep a flood away,” Jongin said. A second later, he cursed himself mentally because that didn’t come out right. He had meant to say that as a way of reassuring him that he didn’t expect Sehun to be anything, but instead it sounded like he was expecting him to be someone else._

_Sehun snorted, trying to hold back laughter. Jongin sighed, snatching up the red bean candy and shoving it into his mouth. He was never good with his words._

_“Gosh, Jongin,” Sehun giggled, “you mean that?”_

_Jongin looked at him, and nodded. “Yeah. We’re just friends. I don’t expect you to be a water god or anything else but… yourself, I guess.”_

_Sehun pushed out his lower lip at him, pulling a sad expression. “_ Just _friends?” he repeated, an unreadable tone to his voice. Bewildered, Jongin blinked at him._

_“U-Um. Yes?”_

_The only warning he got was a sudden look in Sehun’s eye, like he was ready to kill Jongin, before he found himself tumbling backwards, rolling sideways over the grass. Sehun tumbled over him as well, sputtering and cough bits of grass out of his mouth. Jongin threw his hands out, and barely stopped in time from rolling right into the lake._

_With all the breath shaken out of him, Jongin was just trying to breathe when Sehun climbed over him, putting his hands on either side of Jongin’s head. He hovered over Jongin, dark hair falling into his eyes._

_“I have enough friends,” Sehun said plaintively._

_“Okay? Mmh—!” Anything Jongin had to say was lost in the wind as Sehun planted a kiss full on the mouth. He wasn’t terribly gentle, kissing Jongin like he’d been dreaming about it since the day they met. Jongin pushed at his chest at first, but only because he’d never heard of boys kissing boys before. He couldn’t bring himself to pretend he didn’t like it though; his hands went slack, throwing caution to the wind._

_Sehun pulled away first, dropping on to the ground beside Jongin with a satisfied smile on his face. He wiped his mouth thoughtfully with a slim finger, licking his bottom lip._

_It took all of Jongin’s self-control not to tackle Sehun into the lake; he had no idea why he was so infuriatingly smug about it. “That makes you my boyfriend now,” Sehun said, matter-of-fact._

_“W-what?” Jongin sputtered._

_“When you kiss someone it means you’re betrothed to them, doesn’t it? Well, in this case, I don’t want to marry you just yet, but,” Sehun sidled up to him, nuzzling Jongin’s cheek, “we can be boyfriends now. Do you want to be my boyfriend?”_

_Jongin had a feeling that maybe it was a little too late to ask him that now; but it was alright. Because he did want to be Sehun’s boyfriend, even though he didn’t have a single clue what it truly entailed. It didn’t matter, so long as it meant they could kiss again._

_After that, their days flew by like flower petals in the wind._

_Fifty days within meeting Sehun, Jongin brought him back to his home to meet his grandma. She was thrilled to have the famous reincarnate of the water god in her humble residence, and cooked up a fabulous dinner for the three of them with the freshest vegetables from her farm._

_Sehun was oddly at ease with her attention throughout the entire time, which Jongin chalked up to him being used to having people admiring him._

_She also took a liking to him when Sehun explained in a forthcoming manner that he wasn’t really the reincarnate of the water god, and that he was just a warlock like Jongin. Somehow she didn’t really buy it, claiming that destiny always had a plan and Sehun just didn’t know what it was yet._

_However, she did sympathize with Sehun when she learned that he had been adopted by his current family, much like Jongin._

_“He’s never met his father too, or his mother. She died shortly after he was born, and his father clearly wasn’t the responsible type,” his grandma said to Sehun. It made Jongin prickle uncomfortably, because it wasn’t like they shared this particular piece of information with just anyone._

_“Don’t you think his mother would be proud of him?” she beamed at Sehun._

_“Of course,” Sehun replied, “I’m sure he’s the best grandson anyone could ever have, and I’m, of course, just lucky to be his_ friend _.” Jongin fidgeted nervously at that._

_However, the hardest parts were over, and Sehun was perfectly well-mannered through it all. When the moon began to shine, he took his leave. Jongin walked him to the lake, and they kissed passionately this time, as if they would never meet again._

_They parted with swollen lips and messy hair, but their secret was safe. Jongin was Sehun’s, and Sehun was his._

_On the sixtieth day, Sehun told Jongin to come back to the lake at night with a blanket. “I have a surprise,” was all he would say to Jongin._

_Jongin too had a surprise for Sehun, because it was the new moon. With his hair dark as ebony like Sehun’s, Jongin slipped out, again when his grandma was asleep. He had thought that perhaps Sehun wanted to stargaze, but it was not the stars he was interested in that night._

_“You look_ so _… different,” Sehun gushed, rubbing at Jongin’s hair between his fingers like he couldn’t believe it. Jongin laughed in embarrassment. It was the first time anyone had ever seen him like this, aside from his grandma. He had told Sehun about it, but he supposed seeing was believing._

_“You’re just so full of surprises, Jongin… Even your eyes,” Sehun said, coming close to his face to observe him. Jongin pretended to shove at him._

_“Shut up,” he muttered, praying he wouldn’t blush. “What did you call me out here for anyway?” he asked, trying to divert attention from himself._

_“Oh, right!” Sehun rummaged into his pocket for something. “Someone gave me this scented oil today. It came from China, I think. Smell it,” Sehun said, bringing out a small glass vial. He popped the cover, and Jongin sniffed tentatively. It smelled like roses in spring, heavenly and light._

_“Smells nice,” Jongin commented. Sehun gave him a dry look. “Yeah, but that’s not why I called you out here.”_

_“W-Well, why did you, then?” Jongin stammered in confusion. In place of an answer, Sehun began to kiss him, long, slow and hard. His hands dipped into Jongin’s hanbok, pulling it apart. Aroused, Jongin broke off clumsily and tried to put his clothes back on._

_“W-what—?”_

_“I want you, Jongin,” Sehun said, very seriously, “and I love you. I want to show you just how much.”_

_Very quickly, Sehun got rid of their clothes. His hands were everywhere as they kissed sloppily, running down Jongin’s chest, over his arms and clenching down on his erection. Jongin came embarrassingly quickly before they even did anything, though Sehun took it as a sign of his enthusiasm._

_“I’m glad that you love me that much,” Sehun breathed against Jongin’s lips. Using every last drop of the scented oil, Jongin stretched Sehun with his fingers. He didn’t think he did a very good job of it; he was terribly distracted by Sehun’s lithe, naked body. There was not a single flaw that he could pick out, even when Sehun revealed his mark to Jongin for the first time._

_“It’s—” Sehun winced when Jongin fitted a second finger into him, “a hassle having to cover it up all the time.”_

_If Jongin had his way, he would never let Sehun cover his mark up. His mark were the translucent scales on his back, small and delicate but colourful in the moonlight, sending pink, purple, and blue flashes everywhere. It reminded Jongin of the scales on a fish, bending according to the shape of the body as it moved in the water._

_Perhaps Sehun was not the reincarnate of Habaek but Jongin thought he was surely some kind of magnificent creature, a blessing upon the earth._

_He said as much when Sehun sank on his cock, sitting on his lap with the most erotic expression Jongin had ever seen. “You’re beautiful, Sehun. Everything about you is beautiful,” Jongin whispered. His face was completely open like a book, the pleasure written all over his face._

_“Say you love me,” Sehun whispered back, eyes closed._

_“I love you,” Jongin murmured, gripping Sehun’s legs tightly as he rode Jongin’s cock. He repeated those three words so many times that night, he lost count, but he meant it each time he said it. He meant it when Sehun moaned aloud, he meant it when Sehun came and he meant it when they fucked again the second time round, right there by the lake in the open where anyone could see them._

_“I love you, Sehun,” Jongin had panted, “I love you, I love you…”_

_They spent the night together, wrapped up in each other’s arms. At the very least, Jongin was partially right about the stargazing. They fell asleep envisioning patterns and images in the night sky until dawn came, and both part ways to carry out their own duties as sons of the house._

_They still met in the following days, though Sehun usually came by at night instead of afternoons. By now, Jongin’s grandma assumed they were the best of friends and had no objections whenever Jongin told her he was going to meet Sehun by the lake._

_“Of course, dear, have fun,” she would say. Jongin would blush in embarrassment and run off to meet Sehun._

_Some days, if they were feeling brave, they’d smoke a pipe, one that Sehun had stolen from his father’s room. It tasted bad in Jongin’s mouth, but Sehun enjoyed doing it simply because he wasn’t allowed to smoke. Mostly, Jongin just liked to light the pipe with a snap of his fingers to catch the look of awe on Sehun’s face._

_Other warmer days, they’d swim naked in the lake. Sehun’s figure always cut through the water like silk, moving like a mythical mermaid._

_Usually, those nights meant sleepless nights, where they’d make love for hours until just before dawn. Sehun would draw his hanbok over his shoulders, covering up the bite marks Jongin had left on his neck and body._

_On the seventieth day, Sehun stopped by with a heavy fruit basket for Jongin and his grandma. Apparently the villagers were going through a good season this year and there was more than enough of fruits to go around._

_“Oh, Sehun, it’s really not necessary,” Jongin’s grandma fussed as Jongin heaved it into their small home. She was practically close to tears._

_“No, I insist,” Sehun replied gently, “you should rest, omoni. I’m sure Jongin would help you more if you asked.”_

_Later, Jongin and Sehun harvested potatoes and carrots together while Jongin’s grandma sat by the porch, fanning herself. When Jongin came close, Sehun said in an odd voice, “Your grandma’s really old. You should watch out for her.”_

_Jongin was surprised at that. Sehun was rarely so serious. “I-I know. And I will.”_

_“Alright,” Sehun nodded, “and you know you can tell me if you need anything, right?” Jongin said yes, and reassured Sehun there was nothing to worry about. He had everything he needed, and there wasn’t much else that he could ask for._

_-_

_It was on the hundredth day that Jongin’s grandma passed away during winter. She had caught a terrible cold, and never really recovered from it, even though the doctors Sehun sent to their home insisted she could get better if she took more herbs, drank more soups and tonics._

_But Jongin knew that her time was close, as did she, and all she wanted in the end was to spend more time with him._

_“You take care of yourself, you hear?” she had rasped in bed, wiping his tears with her worn fingers. “And you take care of Sehun. Be happy for all your days, Jongin.” She was the only person in the world who cared about what happened to Jongin. To lose her felt like losing half of his heart, and trying to bury her was more than he could bear._

_The funeral bearers couldn’t break through the ice with their spades, and had to leave her body in the backyard until spring. Sehun was all that kept Jongin going through that bitter winter, keeping the fire warm in Jongin’s home and holding him, when there was nothing but tears. Otherwise, Jongin would’ve been content to lie next to her casket, and let the ice and snow send him into an endless slumber._

_When spring broke, Sehun returned to his home in the village on the hundred and fortieth day, with a gentle suggestion that Jongin move in with him._

_“I have more than enough space in my place. You can come anytime you want to,” he’d told Jongin._

_It was a lovely sentiment, but Jongin knew well enough than to impose on the water god’s reincarnate’s family home. What would the villagers think of Jongin? And they might suspect that Sehun was a warlock too, which would’ve put everyone unnecessarily at stake._

_No, he chose to stay in the only home he’d ever known, where his grandma was buried less than a hundred feet away from the house, and worked the farm every day. It kept him busy, and by that time, Sehun too was weighed down with more and more responsibilities. There were countless ceremonies for him to attend, homes to visit and people to meet._

_He visited less often, but Jongin did not blame him for it._

_They both knew they had all the time in the world to be together, and this was nothing but a short parting. He stopped counting the days, because there was no point in counting that which was infinite._

_-_

_It must’ve been eight months since his grandma died before Jongin decided he’d pay Sehun a visit at the village._

_They’d taken to writing to each other every day ever since Jongin finally mastered reading and writing. A messenger would come by every morning to collect Jongin’s letter and drop off another from Sehun._

_Mostly, they imagined a lot in their letters, about the distant future. After all, village life wasn’t going to be forever. Sehun wanted to travel with Jongin, see the world and explore the undiscovered parts of the earth. Jongin wanted nothing more to be with Sehun, wherever that might be. He would’ve gone anywhere that Sehun wanted to go._

_Nonetheless, in one of his more recent letters, Sehun told Jongin the yearly summer festival coming up, where it was common for the villagers to don masks and celebrate the summer solstice._

_‘You could come and join in the celebrations,’ he wrote, ‘no one would know who you are behind the mask, save for myself.’_

_And because Jongin thought it was time to repay Sehun for all he’d done for Jongin, he packed up some essentials and made his way to the village on foot._

_It was different from what he remembered it as a child. He used to walk with his grandma at three or four years old, carrying vegetables on his back to sell them to the villagers there. Most of them took pity on the old woman with her young grandchild, buying cabbage or chilies out of concern rather than need._

_They stopped pitying Jongin however, when the colour of his eyes never faded, and his hair did not darken. The villagers shunned them, and kept their children away from him. They thought he was some kind of fox spirit, come to take away the souls of other young children._

_It was disheartening, but they went back to their home and never came to the village again. Jongin was around five years old by then, and his grandma no longer needed to buy milk._

_Now, an eighteen year old, he looked around with cautious eyes, hiding his hair underneath a straw hat and keeping his gaze lowered. Many village girls squealed in delight or whispered among themselves at the sight of the new stranger in the village. Jongin was flattered, but kept to himself. He’d already had his heart tucked away for someone else._

_He found Sehun’s residence quickly enough, after walking around a bit. It was the biggest house on the street. There was even a barn for the horses, cows and pigs Sehun’s family owned._

_Apparently, being worshipped as a reincarnate of a god was lucrative. Still, Sehun was the same when he greeted Jongin at the gates, pulling him in excitedly._

_“I can’t believe you came!” Sehun said, lacing their fingers together. Jongin thought Sehun looked a little older than the last time they met; warlocks stopped aging after a while, but Jongin supposed puberty wasn’t quite done with Sehun yet._

_Not that he was complaining; Sehun looked mature now, like a full grown adult. He had grown out his hair, and let it hang loose in a ponytail down his back. Jongin thought he could see why the villagers put him on a pedestal. He had the kind of rare beauty only gods should have._

_Jongin stayed for two days in Sehun’s home._

_He met Sehun’s adopted parents as well as other servants who lived under the same roof. They were warm and welcoming, and didn’t even take a second look when Jongin took off his straw hat. Nonetheless, Sehun thought it would be safer if Jongin just stayed in until the festival itself began on the second night._

_They reminisced, and played the games they used to play on the first night._

_When the festival began, all the villagers were there to celebrate, donning masks of all shapes and size. Sehun wore a smiling mask, painted white except for its facial features, which were traced in black. Red circles dotted the cheekbones and the forehead of the mask. To be ironic, Sehun gave Jongin one that was unpainted, made of polished wood. It was carved into a frown, and looked almost grotesque in comparison to Sehun’s mask._

_“It’s the most common mask you’ll see,” Sehun said, as he fixed his mask on, “you’ll blend in with everybody else.”_

_Sehun’s mother fixed Jongin’s mask on for him. There was a piece of black cloth attached to the back of the mask, so it covered his hair. Sehun’s mask was also the same, but Jongin could pick out Sehun from a crowd anywhere. He wore a turquoise hanbok which stood out because it was such a rare colour, while Jongin was dressed in a plain, grey hanbok his grandma had sewn for him as his formal wear._

_“I can still see your eyes,” Sehun teased, when they left the house and joined the others on the streets. Shops were closed for the night, leaving space for makeshift stalls to sell deep-fried snacks, candy, and toys among others._

_There seemed to be dozens of people, allowing them to walk closer to one another than what was usually accepted when two men were walking in public together._

_“Even with the most boring mask on, you still stand out,” Sehun said to Jongin. His voice was muffled, hard to hear in the noise of the festival. Somewhere in the distance, fireworks had been set off._

_“I doubt anyone would look that closely,” Jongin muttered. Sehun’s hand brushed his, and he wrapped his pinky finger around Jongin’s._

_“But I would. I could recognize you anywhere,” Sehun whispered into his ear. Jongin’s cheeks flamed underneath the mask. Somehow, he knew Sehun was smiling behind his mask as well._

_They walked for hours, inspecting the wares villagers had made specifically for the festival. Sehun snacked on so many different types of candies Jongin was sure that Sehun would lose all his teeth come morning. They played some of the games with the children; spinning tops, yutnoli, ddakji… Jongin hadn’t had that much fun in a long time._

_Then came the drinking. Those who recognized Sehun offered him and Jongin (his mysterious companion) several servings of liquor, ranging from fruit liquor to specially distilled rice wines._

_When they stumbled home, none of the servants were in, and his parents had yet to return as well._

_Sehun tossed the mask aside and kissed Jongin fervently, pulling off his hanbok roughly like he did the first night. Jongin was hot all over from the alcohol, and could barely carry himself back into his room, dragging Sehun in as well. They slammed the door shut carelessly, and Jongin fucked Sehun raw on the ground till he spilled white all over the sitting mats._

_Insatiable after months of separation, Sehun searched desperately in his room for the glass vial of oil he’d hidden away specifically for this purpose._

_“I touch myself sometimes, alone at night,” Sehun heaved as he sank on Jongin’s cock desperately. He liked to do it sitting up, though it meant Jongin felt twice as dizzy from the pleasure and the alcohol coursing through his veins._

_“While thinking of me?” Jongin murmured, dragging red lines down Sehun’s chest. They had not seen each other in months, but it felt like they hadn’t slept together in decades._

_“_ Always _thinking of you,” Sehun said, eyes squeezed shut. He came for a second time all over Jongin’s stomach._

_After that, the alcohol started to set in. They laid on the bed together; Sehun smoked to correct the stink of sex and sweat in the air despite having used cedarwood oil. With the sense of urgency from earlier now gone, they lazed in Jongin’s room with the door open for some fresh air._

_“This was fun, right?” Sehun asked. Smoke drifted upwards in tendrils, curling as it hit the ceiling._

_“Mm,” Jongin nuzzled Sehun’s neck. He took the pipe from Sehun’s mouth, puffing on it once. “This is bad for your health, you know,” he murmured, tracing the dips and curves of Sehun’s body with a hand._

_“We both know that doesn’t apply with me. Or us, for that matter,” Sehun chuckled, taking the pipe back and holding it delicately between his two fingers._

_Jongin didn’t know how it happened, but it was at that moment when he realized that he was inexplicably in love with Sehun. He’d come unexpectedly into Jongin’s life, and created new colours for him where there had been none previously. Sehun was wily, clever, wicked sometimes, and ever so sexy. And Jongin was in love with every single part of him._

_“You should visit more often,” Sehun remarked, “if you come at dawn, stay for a few days and leave at night, no one will notice you.”_

_“And stay here? Become your illicit, scandalous lover?” Jongin teased, twirling a finger around a strand of Sehun’s hair._

_“Why yes, of course,” Sehun replied, turning over to sling an arm around his shoulders. He slipped a long leg between Jongin’s, toeing at Jongin’s feet. “I endeavour to live on the very edge. What other way is there to live?” he asked Jongin._

_-_

_A year passed._

_Sehun had just turned nineteen when summer came again, this time with a drought. It was a call for the reincarnate of course, who ran several ceremonies to appease the deities above. Prayers were chanted, shamans were called in to help during the ceremonies._

_That was all just for show. On the other hand, Sehun had figured he could just summon water from underground to fill the empty wells of the village. He did, but the water lasted all but a month before the wells became dry again. The drought persisted, and didn’t go away as everyone thought it would._

_Crops withered, animals died one by one in the village. Many fell sick, and some died._

_Oddly enough, Jongin’s crops were just fine a few miles away, as the lake was nearby. He carried buckets of water every day to water his crops carefully, and thanked his lucky stars that he had his own private supply. Apparently, the villagers had forgotten all about the lake just a stone throw’s away from Jongin’s house._

_While he continued to live peacefully, Sehun was troubled. Every day, Sehun wrote to him about his worries._

_‘I’ve tried everything, Jongin,’ he wrote, ‘I summoned water from underground till there was nothing left to summon. I stayed up all night to try and make it rain. I even tried chanting spells and completing rituals I don’t even understand to beg Habaek to give us water, but nothing works._

_‘Please visit me if you can, Jongin. I hope you’re doing alright.’_

_The dry spell stretched into two months. At the end of the second month, Jongin carried a month’s worth of vegetables and walked to the village at dawn. No one saw him; the villagers stayed out of the sun for as long as they could in fear of heat stroke or dehydration. Upon reaching Sehun’s home, they thanked him eagerly for bringing food._

_“Thank God,” Sehun hugged him. He had lost weight in the last month since Jongin had seen him._

_“I brought you some water,” Jongin said quietly, pulling off his knapsack to reveal a loinskin filled with water from the lake. Sehun smiled gratefully at Jongin. “Thank you,” he whispered._

_However, their happiness was short-lived. Although Jongin could walk back home every day and lug water for Sehun’s family, the drought was still hanging over their heads like an ominous cloud._

_They knew the villagers wouldn’t want to take water from the lake at Jongin’s house. If they found out that his farm was as prosperous as ever, they would think the land cursed. And it_ was _strange that the lake did not dry out, but they couldn’t wrap their heads around it. Regardless, they had a bigger problem at hand; the villagers’ lives were at stake._

_Sehun’s family became increasingly worried as the third month rolled in. This was the one thing they had not foreseen, the one thing they could not have prepared for. They still conducted ceremonies and rituals daily, but by now the novelty had worn off. Villagers grew suspicious, claiming that Sehun had been faking it all along._

_“He must’ve tricked us, and now the real water god is angry with us!” one villager yelled during the rain-making ritual._

_One became two, two became four, and soon the entire village was against the Oh family. They shut themselves up into their own homes, locking the gates except in the dead of night, when Jongin would sneak out to go back to his farm._

_Their days grew worse when the villagers rallied up to Sehun’s house, demanding that he showed himself, and to do something to fix the drought. Sehun tried praying to every god he knew but nothing ever seemed to work._

_All he wanted at this point was a bit of rain or water to flow back into the wells so the villagers could at least leave him alone. Sehun became an anxious mess, constantly paranoid and eating little. His nails were always bitten down to the quick, and he slept only a couple hours each day. He wanted to fix it, he really did. But he was a warlock, not a god._

_Admitting to it now was useless anyway. The villagers were just determined that he was the root of the problem._

_About a fortnight into the fourth month later, the villagers found their solution. Jongin was horrified as he went into the back garden for some fresh air and overheard the servants talking in urgent whispers._

_“They’re gonna sacrifice the young master,” one said, horror evident in her voice._

_“A human sacrifice? But why does it have to be our young master…” the older servant replied._

_“I heard the village head talking! He said it’s the young master who caused the drought. The real water god’s pride has been hurt because we have worshipped young master all these years… and now, the only way to save the village is to kill him.”_

_Jongin retreated quietly back into Sehun’s parents’ room. He relayed the story he’d heard back to them. All their maids and servants were sent away that night. The large house darkened as they doused the lights, save for three rooms; one for Sehun, another for his parents and the last one for Jongin._

_Sehun still crawled into Jongin’s bed every night anyway, shaking in fear. Warlocks could live forever, but it didn’t mean they were infallible. Jongin promised to protect him no matter what happened, even if it meant having to kill all the villagers._

_“I don’t want to die, Jongin,” Sehun whispered into his clothes, tears staining the front of his hanbok. “I don’t want to die.”_

_Each day, they prayed for their safety. Each night that passed, it became harder to sneak out of the house because there were always some villagers lingering around in case they tried to leave at night. Forced into a corner like an animal, they were trapped inside their own home._

_Jongin thought he caught a villager following him back to his home one night. He never did catch a glimpse at the man or woman, whoever it might’ve been._

_But it did rouse his suspicions enough to take more water than he usually would and hurry back to Sehun’s home. He said nothing to Sehun, not wanting to worry him any further. Just brushed his hair till it was silky smooth and murmured promises to keep him safe._

_Slowly, the moon dwindled from a half circle, to a crescent, until the final night when there was nothing left._

_Jongin was wide awake that night, watching his eyes and hair darken to black in the mirror. Sehun, twice as wary that night as well, did not sleep. And Jongin was thankful that everyone in the house had been awake, because when the night grew late and the forests grew silent, the villagers began to storm the house._

_It was as if they had a newfound vengefulness, a desperate anger as they broke through the wooden gates of Sehun’s home, crying for justice. The gate fell in tatters, unable to stand up to the force of the crowd._

_The villagers didn’t take very long to find them. They trashed the entire place, setting fire to some of the rooms. When they came upon Jongin, alone in his room, he fought them off with his fists. Unfortunately, the villagers came armed with pitchforks, knives, anything they could find._

_He lost a lot of blood and his sense of direction, trying to keep all the villagers out. Jongin just couldn’t believe that there were so many villagers, powered by their anger and bitterness, trying to kill four people._

_He’d hidden Sehun beneath the wooden flooring of his room, where they’d dug a hole out of the dirt for him to stand in. Somehow, someone must’ve found him there._

_By the time Jongin regained his senses and ran back to the room, now in a bloody, chaotic mess, the wooden boards of the floor had been ripped apart, leaving a gaping hole in the ground. Half of the house was already on fire, and nothing moved._

_So Jongin ran out, bursting on the streets. It was oddly quiet, like the calm before the storm. Bodies lay on the ground like flies, littering the street. He spotted Sehun’s adoptive mother, dead on the ground. There was a rock next to her body, and her head was covered in blood._

_Jongin swallowed thickly and looked away, concentrating on Sehun. He had promised to keep him safe, and he would keep it even if it would cost his life._

_Hurrying through the streets, Jongin went to the temple, and found that it was destroyed. He ran to the house where he knew a shaman lived and it was also decimated, the wooden house burned to the ground. Wiping his tears as they trickled down his face, Jongin ran faster, to the only place where the villagers could go now._

_He ran back to his childhood home, back to the lake where he’d first met Sehun. Jongin ran till his feet bled from cuts made by rocks and sharp weeds. He arrived just in time to see all the villagers crowded around the lake, holding torches._

_“This false idol,” the village head was saying loudly, “has been impersonating a god all these years. He has tricked us! He has now angered the true water god, Habaek! And now with this drought upon us, it is time for him to pay!” The villagers yelled and shouted in agreement._

_Sehun was brought forward, clothes torn, every inch of his skin bloodied. His hands were bound together by rope. Someone kicked him to the ground, and he fell without a fight. His back, revealed, shone like the inside of a shell._

_Jongin rushed forward without thinking, weaponless save for his hands. The villagers overwhelmed him quickly, swallowing him up with their numbers. He screamed Sehun’s name, but hands grabbed at him, shoved him down to his knees. A dirty cloth was stuffed into his mouth to shut him up. Like Sehun, he was dragged forward to the very edge of the lake._

_“Jongin?” Sehun rasped, sitting up._

_“Ah,” the village head pointed at Jongin, “the stranger! He has lived with the Oh family for months now. The servants who worked at the Oh residence say he is a half-demon, with strange hair and eyes like a demon’s. Begone with him!”_

_“But he looks human,” one of the men holding Jongin down protested. He wished the man had said nothing. He knew that Sehun was going to die, and he too wished to die. There was no point to life if there was no Sehun._

_“Why, then,” the village head said, a sadistic grin on his face, “he can watch the false god die.”_

_“No!” Jongin tried to yell through the cloth, staggering to his feet. More men came forward to pin him down, tying his hands together with rope. Three men had to force him down to his front as Jongin struggled against their weight hopelessly. They made him watch as rocks were tied around Sehun’s waist and feet, then retied his hands again to make sure he could not escape._

_“Jongin!” Sehun cried out in a broken voice, “_ Jongin! _”_

_“Villagers!” the village head boomed over Sehun’s cries, “you see this man before you, with the devil’s mark on his back. He will be returned to hell from whence he came, where the gods shall punish him for his sins.”_

No, _Jongin thought,_ no, no, no.

_“This lake has been cursed for years! See how its dark waters do not dry, even through this terrible drought? What else could it be but the work of this impersonator, a portal to Hell, for all we know!” The villagers gasped, taking a step back away from the edge._

_Jongin could not believe that it had come down to this. He would’ve given his soul to a devil or a hundred devils, just to have his powers back that night._

_He never knew helplessness until that moment, when he saw the look in Sehun’s eyes, the quiet acceptance of death coming for him. Jongin had never thought he would ever see a look like that on Sehun, who was supposed to live forever with Jongin. Sehun, who was supposed to be immortal._

_Jongin screamed as Sehun was dropped into the river. Every detail of that moment would be forever etched in his mind. The way the water splashed up into a thousand droplets, the way Sehun’s back glistened as the water wrapped around him—_ everything, _Jongin would remember for the rest of his life, as the man he loved drowned in water._

_Bubbles rose frenzily to the surface, a sign that Sehun was still alive somewhere down there. He waited, praying that Sehun would resurface somehow. Jongin waited for his dark head of hair to come up the way it always did when they swam in the lake. He waited, and waited._

_Then the bubbles stopped._

_Jongin broke free of the villagers the second they got off him. He kicked and beat them with his tied hands, screaming the entire time._

_They ran away in fright, afraid of this supposed half-demon. Jongin managed to catch a few, and killed them with his bare hands. He didn’t even know how he got his hands free when he realized he was covered in hot blood, red on his hands and clothes. At least six bodies lay by the lake, scattered everywhere._

_“Sehun,” he whispered._

_Jongin jumped into the water, felt through the darkness for him._ Maybe he survived, _he thought. It was impossible, wishful thinking, but he hoped as he searched, that there might be a sign of life left in Sehun. He was the master of water; Sehun could not die this way._

_It took him two trips back to the surface to breathe. Jongin could not see in the depths of the lake’s murky waters, and had to rely entirely by feeling. By the time he found Sehun’s body, weighed down with the rocks, Jongin’s hopes vanished._

_It had already been several minutes since he went in. Sehun’s body was cold as ice when Jongin dragged him out, and even after Jongin tried to pump the water out of his lungs, he didn’t open his eyes._

_“Sehun,” Jongin croaked through his tears, patting his face with shaking hands, “please, please wake up.”_ You can’t leave me like this.

_“Sehun, please,” he begged, clutching Sehun’s body. He still looked the same, with wet hair stuck to his face in strands. He looked like he was asleep but there was no life to him anymore, Jongin knew. His once vibrant energy thrumming from his hands was gone. His chest no longer rose and fell at the same pace as Jongin’s. His lifeless hands were cold, deathly pale. The water had washed him clean, of blood and of life._

_He was dead, and now Jongin had nothing, no one to live for._

_-_

_Full moon._

_Jongin’s purple flames crackled, sending sparks showering upwards to the sky. It had taken him a mere half hour to set the village and everyone in it on fire. He could still hear the screams of the village head in his ears when he’d broken into their house and set everything he touched to flames._

_“There will be nothing but ashes,” he’d promised the village head._

_He made sure there would be nothing to remember this village by. Jongin wanted this place wiped off the face of history forever, along with everyone who lived in it. Jongin didn’t want Sehun to be pitied, one of the many warlocks in the world who died because mortals were too ignorant. Sehun was too good for that._

_Even the rice fields and farms were laid to waste; the smell of burning grass would linger in the air for the next few weeks._

_One by one, he set the houses in the village on fire by touching his flaming hands to the wooden beams of their houses. They crashed down under the weight of the roofs, and then the roofs too were consumed by the fire. Those who tried to escape found that the entire village was surrounded by two circles of roaring flames. Jongin had arranged pieces of firewood all around and set them on fire. Only he could walk through the unnatural fire unscathed; there could be no survivors._

_Jongin waited till the screams died down. For hours, all he heard was the sound of flames crackling. Billows of smoke from piles of smouldering ash sent black clouds up into the sky. Then the silence of the night stifled everything else, and there was only a numb, hollow sort of feeling in his chest._

_At the first sign of twilight, he walked back to his home, the only one he’d ever known. Ashes were already beginning to settle within a three-mile radius of the fire. He was covered in soot by the time the lake came into view._

_As he approached it, he saw a thin layer of ash laying on its surface, little fish swimming below. He thought it was terribly ironic to only be able to see the water now under the full moon. When Sehun had died, it had been darker than a night in hell. Jongin shook his head, and continued to walk._

_He had only returned one last time to pay a last visit to Sehun and his grandma, buried in the backyard. Their graves were unmarked, except for the flowers Jongin had left over their spot in the yard._

_This place too, would be burned to the ground. Jongin was determined to never let the villagers’ deeds to sully the memory and the name of Sehun. And as for his grandma… Jongin placed a hand over where she was buried. If he closed his eyes, he could almost feel her by his side._

She would understand, _he thought. And so would Sehun. This was no place for Jongin to stay anymore. Their happy times had come to an end._

_After Sehun died, Jongin spent seven days in mourning, as was the custom. He buried Sehun in his grey hanbok, the only worthy clothing for Sehun to be buried in now that his home had been reduced to nothing but ash. Then, Sehun’s body was wrapped in a white cloth._

_Jongin dug a six foot hole for Sehun on his own and cried as he placed Sehun in it, knowing that he would never see him again._

_Jongin’s arms ached by the time the grave was covered, and he spent the night there, sleeping over Sehun’s grave. His life as he knew it was over, snatched away from him cruelly. He had so many regrets, more than he could count. He wished he’d told his grandma that he loved her more often. He wished he’d told Sehun how much he loved him that night, before he hid him away beneath the wooden floors._

Sehun lived such a short life _, Jongin had thought to himself. He could’ve lived on for years and years, till the villagers and their grandchildren were long dead. They’d had such plans for the rest of their life together._

We were never meant to say goodbye, _Jongin thought, shedding a tear._ We could’ve been so much more.

_Allowing his grief to consume him again, Jongin unleashed his powers, holding nothing back. His arms burst into flames, licking anything close by. Once the fire began, it spread easily to the rest of the house, as if it had resigned to its fate. The walls charred black, burning like tinder._

_In the flames, Jongin thought he saw Sehun in his lavender hanbok, smiling at him over his shoulder. He turned away, and Jongin tried to call out to him. Sehun disappeared through the front door, his hanbok trailing after him. Jongin gave chase, tears brimming in his eyes. He had so much more to say._

_Instead, he burst out into the open, the cool night air washing over him. Any sign of Sehun was gone. There were only trees for miles, as far as the eye could see._

_Smoke never tasted so bitter on his tongue._

 

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

Kyungsoo’s eyes flew open, the acrid taste of smoke thick in his mouth.

He sat up, coughing violently at once. His stomach was in knots, and he felt physically sick, like he was about to puke. Kyungsoo flew out of bed and went into the bathroom, stumbling to his knees at the toilet. He’d never had such an intense, vivid dream before.

Kyungsoo dry-coughed for a few seconds, before the contents of his stomach came up. He heaved everything out, his guts twisting painfully. It felt awful to vomit; his chest felt cramped and made it hard to breathe. When he fumbled for the handle to flush, he caught a movement in the corner of his eye and saw Jongin walking over.

“Hey,” Jongin mumbled wearily, eyes puffy, “you okay?”

“No,” Kyungsoo replied shakily, flushing his barf down the toilet. He leaned against the toilet bowl, feeling dog-tired. He felt as if he’d aged fifty years.

“What’s wrong?” Jongin got down on his knees.

He reached out a hand towards Kyungsoo, to which he shook his head.

“D-don’t. Don’t touch me,” Kyungsoo mumbled. He didn’t want Jongin’s emotions or more strange dreams. _Except it wasn’t just a dream,_ he thought, wiping at his eyes. His hands came away shaking, wet with tears.

They were clearly memories from a different time, memories that belonged to someone else.

“Why?” Jongin asked, sounding hurt, more than anything else. His hand dropped to his side.

“Y-your memories. I saw everything, Jongin. I saw— Sehun, the village, Kaguya…” Kyungsoo said, trying to catch his breath. Jongin paled at once at the mention of Sehun’s name.

There had been more memories after that, in present time, though most of them were fuzzy. Kyungsoo had seen Jongin visit a cave, where there was a mirror and a woman had appeared in it. He couldn’t remember much of the details, but he knew the woman was named Kaguya, and had something to do with the full moon that had been persisting over the last few days.

 “Shit,” he muttered, “oh, shit.” Jongin dropped his head into his hands. “Jesus Christ— I’m so sorry, Kyungsoo. I-I had my defences down when we were sleeping—”

“What do you mean defences?” Kyungsoo asked with a frown. He sat up, but didn’t bother trying to get to his feet. He still felt a little green around the gills. 

Jongin looked rather confused. “You can feel my aura, can’t you? Isn’t that your ability as a warlock? I was holding back, but I guess it doesn’t work when I’m asleep…”

“Warlock?” Kyungsoo repeated. Sehun had called himself a warlock. Jongin too, in his memories. But warlocks couldn’t be real. None of his memories were supposed to be real, in fact. Because that would mean Jongin was centuries old, and he didn’t look a day older than 23.

“Yes, warlock,” Jongin nodded, laughing nervously, “it’s… what we are? Or did you like, not know?” he added weakly.

“But I’m human!” Kyungsoo protested, “I don’t control fire, o-or water—”

“You can do other stuff, though, right?” Jongin said quietly. “Like… see the memories of others? Upon touch, I’m assuming.”

Kyungsoo went very still inside. It didn’t quite occur to him that maybe his abilities had something to do with all this. He shook his head very slowly, unable to believe this was actually happening.

“No, I can’t see other people’s memories. But I can feel their emotions upon touch. Which was what happened with you, the first time we met,” Kyungsoo lifted his hand up, where a spot near his pinky finger had scarred over.

“Ah,” Jongin said, “well, that’s what happens when I’m upset, and I’m not holding my aura back, and you’re sensitive to the emotions of others. You said on the first night that we brushed hands, I think?” Jongin said. Kyungsoo nodded, though he didn’t remember telling Jongin about it.

“Yes, well. There you have it, Kyungsoo. You’re a warlock. I am one too, and so was Sehun…” he trailed off.

“I saw it all,” Kyungsoo replied quietly. Perhaps he’d seen too much. These were memories that should’ve belonged to Jongin alone. Kyungsoo felt like he’d pried into Jongin’s private life and learned more about him than what Jongin was ready to divulge.

“But we slept together on the first night, didn’t we?” Kyungsoo frowned, thinking about it. “How come none of this happened?”

Jongin shrugged. “Beats me. Well, there was the fact that you were pissed out drunk, so maybe you were completely unconscious? And I was sober, both times,” he paused, seeming to weigh different possibilities.

Then realization dawned upon him. “Unless… unless we did something different,” Jongin said, and turned to look over at the bed. The pink scarf Kyungsoo had draped upon himself— which he now knew was called the celestial robe— lay in a mess on the bed, half of it floating in the air.

“The celestial robe,” Jongin smacked a hand on his forehead, “oh my God. Oh, shit, I should’ve known it was a bad idea…”

“Jongin,” Kyungsoo said in an uneven voice, “I think it’s time you explained everything to me.”

Jongin sighed. “Okay. But I think you’ll need to sit down for this, ‘cause it’s gonna take a while…”

And that was how he explained what the celestial robe was doing in his bedroom, as well as who Kaguya was and her relation to the full moon. Kyungsoo thought it was incredibly dumb of Jongin to just leave something that powerful in his fucking _closet_ (he also felt like a sinner when he remembered they’d had sex with it).

Apparently, it amplified one’s abilities, and when Kyungsoo had slept in it, the celestial robe allowed him to access more than just Jongin’s emotions as they slept in each other’s arms during the night. It had allowed him to delve deeper, right into Jongin’s memories, especially when Jongin’s mind was left unprotected in his sleep.

However, sleeping with the celestial robe was nothing compared to the fact that Jongin was helping Kaguya to _freeze time_.

“Jongin, you know freezing time is like… a big thing, right?” Kyungsoo said, when Jongin was done explaining. They were back on the bed, and Kyungsoo still had this ridiculous urge to snuggle with Jongin despite the fact that this was _not_ the time.

“I do,” Jongin nodded. Kyungsoo looked at him incredulously.

Old, childhood fairy tales were coming to life and all he could do was _nod_? “Jongin, how can you be so nonchalant about it? There are more than a billion lives at stake here, it’s _the planet_ we’re talking about—”

“Warlocks are half-demons, you know. Maybe it’s kind of my destiny to be vengeful,” Jongin said in a blank voice, not in the least vengeful, “And there’s the fact that I haven’t been completely impressed by humans over the last five hundred years…”

“First of all, your impression of humans doesn’t give you the right to play God, Jongin,” Kyungsoo said, “and second, you’re over five hundred years old? Really, Jongin, you could’ve said _something_ before we got involved—”

“How?” Jongin cut in, “how could I have brought up with you? Over appetisers and wine? ‘Oh, Kyungsoo, I’ve been alive for half a millennia, and I’m also a warlock. By the way, you’re a warlock too, right? Let me buy you a drink,’” Jongin said sarcastically.

“Speaking of which, I can’t believe you didn’t mention the part about being a warlock too,” Kyungsoo added. He had thought that his abilities somehow didn’t work on Jongin, and that his emotions were blocked like bad Wi-Fi signal. He certainly didn’t think it was because Jongin had been holding back for him because he knew Kyungsoo was a warlock too.

“I just thought you knew,” Jongin shrugged, “I knew when we first met that you could feel my aura so I put a mind block between us, but I didn’t think that it was my emotions that you felt, and not my energy. And you must’ve felt the difference, so naturally, I assumed you understood that I was a warlock too.”

“Sehun taught you that trick, didn’t he?” Kyungsoo said quietly, “about feeling the energy from another warlock?”

Jongin nodded once. “He did,” he said shortly. _Sehun had taught him everything,_ Kyungsoo thought. He had been Jongin’s guide to being a warlock, where Kyungsoo had nothing to offer. And Jongin had been in love with him. Would’ve died for him if he could, on that night.

Were it not for the fact that he practically experienced it first-hand through Jongin’s memories, Kyungsoo would’ve thought this kind of first love was just melodrama and exaggeration.

“I’m sorry about what happened to him,” Kyungsoo whispered.

“I’m sorry too,” Jongin shrugged, “I wish I could’ve saved him, somehow.”

Kyungsoo understood where he was coming from, but he still couldn’t just let Kaguya freeze time out of spite, as an act of revenge against the villagers who’d killed Sehun. He wasn’t looking at things the right way.

“I know you wanted to save him, Jongin,” Kyungsoo said slowly, “but helping Kaguya won’t bring him back.”

“It won’t,” he agreed, “but I never want to be weak again. If I had had my powers that night, I would’ve saved Sehun and none of this would’ve happened,” Jongin sounded angry as he said it. Kyungsoo stopped at that.

 _So he wishes he’s never met me?_ Kyungsoo thought. A pang of disappointment shot through his chest.

It shouldn’t have been a big surprise, though. _Look at the way he’s still holding on to Sehun even after five hundred years,_ he told himself. They say that no one ever really gets over their first love. He was silly to think he could compete with someone like that, someone who was powerful enough to be mistaken for a god.

“How are you going to do it, then?” Kyungsoo asked instead, pushing all his feelings down. Half of the things that Jongin said he had to collect didn’t even sound real. Only the celestial robe and its abilities made everything Jongin said concrete. Although Kyungsoo realized he was in no position to think this was all

“Well, I have the celestial robe, and four items out of the five that I’m supposed to find. All that’s left is… the jewel from the dragon’s neck.”

“Dragons aren’t real,” Kyungsoo said immediately. Jongin gave him a dry look. “People also think warlocks aren’t real. And yet here we are, looking into memories and misusing the celestial robe.”

“For the record, I didn’t know you meant it was the celestial robe when you said it was vintage,” Kyungsoo blushed, “I thought it was like… your special gay scarf, or something.”

“Special gay scarf?” Jongin laughed aloud. His genuine laughter surprised Kyungsoo; he didn’t think he could ever make Jongin laugh ever again. Or himself, for that matter. He smiled reluctantly anyway, because he loved Jongin’s smile, and the way he laughed with his entire body.

“Oh, Kyungsoo,” Jongin said with a sigh as he settled against the headboard. He folded his arms around himself, the blanket pooled over his legs, “what would I do without you?”

The look he gave Kyungsoo was far too intense. It made Kyungsoo’s heart jump in his chest with hope. He made Kyungsoo feel like there was a chance for them to be something more when… _when there’s nothing_ , Kyungsoo thought. Jongin could laugh and smile now, but he was still in love with Sehun. And maybe Kyungsoo was a little in love with Jongin too, because it hurt to know that he would never really have a chance with Jongin.

“I don’t know,” Kyungsoo muttered, “how you’ve been doing all this time before you met me, I guess.”

This time, he really did feel used, even though he knew Jongin was too nice to do that to him intentionally. Kyungsoo should’ve known better than to jump into this with his heart out on his sleeve.

“Aw, c’mon, Kyungsoo,” Jongin pouted, “are you mad at me?”

 _More mad at myself than you,_ Kyungsoo said in his head.

“Kind of, yeah,” was what he said, “I should go.” He got off the bed, looking for his clothes strewn on the ground. He could hear the sheets rustling as Jongin crawled over towards him.

“Why are you leaving all of a sudden? And it’s 4AM, Kyungsoo, it’s too late to get a cab.” Kyungsoo found his shirt and swung it over his shoulder, buttoning it up.

“I’m leaving because I have to, Jongin,” Kyungsoo said, his voice shaking slightly, “I mean, I understand that Sehun was taken brutally away from you, the villagers really shouldn’t have done that to you, or anyone else. But freezing time, Jongin?

“That’s so— so _selfish_ of you, to the point where I can’t even begin to comprehend it. Sehun’s death wasn’t your fault at all, this is no way to go about dealing with your emotions.”

Jongin’s expression shuttered into blankness. His voice was cold when he said, “Sehun’s death was— is— my burden to bear.”

“No, Jongin,” Kyungsoo said, too tired to even argue properly at this point, “you don’t have to keep demonizing yourself. Sometimes, things just happen. Sometimes, it’s what you do _after_ that matters most.” He spotted his pants under the bed and put it on, one foot at a time. He pulled himself together just enough to look decent if there was anyone on the streets.

He didn’t even care if he had to walk home alone in the dark. All he knew was that he couldn’t be with Jongin tonight.

Kyungsoo walked out of the room and headed towards the door, grabbing his briefcase which had been left on the ground. He was reminded of Sehun when he caught sight of the bear clock on the wall; there were little reminders of him everywhere, now that he knew where to look.

A little voice told Kyungsoo that he shouldn’t have been as surprised as he was. To Jongin, he was probably nothing more than great company and a warm body at night.

“Kyungsoo, please don’t leave,” Jongin pleaded, following him out to the doorway.

“I don’t want to leave, Jongin,” Kyungsoo said, opening the door without looking at Jongin, “but I know I can’t stay.”

 

*

 _わが弓の力は龍あらば、ふと射殺して、首の玉はとりてむ_ _◦_

_“Oh, arrow of mine with power pure and immense to slay the dragon, do your good deed fast and swift; grasp the crystal in its neck.”_

 

 

Kyungsoo sat at his table, pretending to squint at the computer like he was doing important. Well, technically he was; his job was at stake here. He was supposed to whip up the final proposal to send to Jongdae, but his mind was mostly preoccupied with thoughts of Jongin.

It’d been this way for almost two days now. His head was filled with thoughts of Jongin, the moon, and the jewel of the dragon’s neck…

 _Surely he won’t be able to find it_ , Kyungsoo thought. Where the hell would he find such a thing in the first place? A dragon goods’ store?

 _Maybe he won’t find it_ , Kyungsoo thought. He could’ve just been extremely lucky to have found the other items so far. But a jewel from a dragon’s neck was a _long_ stretch, by far. Kaguya might leave Jongin alone if she realized that the jewel wasn’t going to be found easily.

Kyungsoo’s nonchalance about the entire topic sort of scared him, in all honesty. After so many years of thinking he was an anomaly, the thought of identifying his— _problem_ as ‘warlock’ was a little disconcerting.

 _It could be shock_ , he figured, moving the mouse around the screen aimlessly. Kyungsoo glanced around the office. Everyone was occupied with their own work, their heads bowed low. His gaze returned to his computer. Perhaps Google could enlighten him further regarding warlocks.

He fired up the internet browser and typed ‘warlocks’ into the search box. Kyungsoo was fairly certain that he wouldn’t find much that was true online, but it was better than living in the dark anyway.

And he was right; under images, grotesque creatures with leathery skin, horns or spikes appeared as he scrolled briefly. From Jongin’s memories he knew that there was no way _all_ warlocks looked like this, so he dismissed that and looked at the websites listed.

He clicked on one of the first few search results that said ‘Warlocks: Powers and Abilities’. Apparently, warlocks usually had a multitude of abilities, such as being able to control fire and water, as well as have telepathic capabilities. Well, perhaps this was only partially true since Kyungsoo did look into Jongin’s memories, but that was only with the help of the celestial robe.

And he certainly had no control over water; if that were true, he would’ve summoned himself a cup of coffee from the pantry by now.

Another site claimed warlocks to be the male version of witches. Somehow Kyungsoo doubted this to be true, because warlocks had powers of their own while witches (from his own understanding) could only perform magic by summoning power from a third party like a dark spirit or a god.

Kyungsoo went on to other sites, some of them discussing the origins of warlocks. He remembered Sehun saying that his biological father was a water dragon, while Jongin’s father was a fire demon. A site claimed that warlocks were borne out of affairs between male demons and female humans. Female demons could not bear warlock children; all were cursed with infertility as a result of forsaking God when they were once angels.

Kyungsoo thought this sounded plausible. He supposed it had something to do with Eve being the one who had eaten the forbidden fruit in the Bible. Or maybe that was just the way things were.

After reading through several pages, he shut the internet browser and rubbed at his eyes. It felt rather strange to get all the answers he ever wanted all in one go. But strangely, he didn’t feel any different knowing a little more about himself. Or maybe he was just relieved that he wasn’t alone and there were possibly others like him out there. _The way Jongin said it sounded like he knew others,_ Kyungsoo thought.

_Is there anyone who could be a warlock in the office here?_

He looked over at Baekhyun, who was sketching something out for visualization purposes. He had his box of colour pencils out, and pencil shavings lay scattered on his desk, some crushed at his feet. Baekhyun hummed tunelessly under his breath.   _Hm,_ Kyungsoo pursed his lips.

He glanced over at Chanyeol instead, who was discussing something with Minseok at his desk. Chanyeol had a red nose like Rudolph, and coughed into a handkerchief every so often. _Do warlocks even get sick?_ Kyungsoo thought.

Now that Kyungsoo thought about it, he rarely ever fell sick when he was younger. He thought it was because he always stayed home, but perhaps there was a more fundamental reason behind it.

And anyways, there were other things to look out for when trying to identify a warlock. Kyungsoo remembered something from Jongin’s memories; a mark. Evidently, Jongin’s mark were his hair and his eyes, while Sehun’s had been the translucent scales on his back. No one had any particularly strange features. Or at least, none that was visible anyway.

 _But… what about me?_ Kyungsoo thought, staring at his hands.

Kyungsoo had no strange marks to speak of too. Besides, his parents had been completely freaked out when they knew he had strange abilities. If he’d had any strange physical marks, he doubted he would be alive and thinking about all this now.

Kyungsoo caught a glimpse of his reflection on the glass wall across his desk. His eyes were a normal, dark brown. His hair was black, having avoided hair salons all his life. He was unremarkable in appearance, with nothing remarkably special.

 _Maybe I’m not even a warlock?_ Perhaps he should’ve said something to Jongin before he’d left his apartment so rashly that night—

“Hey, Kyungsoo,” Minseok trilled, coming from behind him. Kyungsoo blinked in surprise, and looked up at Minseok, who stood looming over his desk to see what was on his screen. Luckily, it displayed a blank document, with only ten words so far.

“You don’t have to stress so much about the proposal, you know,” Minseok said, “you can actually just edit the one you made the last time and send it to the higher-ups. They won’t say much, so long as you have the main details…” Kyungsoo laughed nervously.

“O-Oh, right. Yeah, I totally forgot about the other document. I’ll get right on to it, sorry,” Kyungsoo said, and clicked to look for the document on his computer somewhere.

Minseok didn’t move away, however, and stood there for a few seconds. The back of Kyungsoo’s neck prickled uncomfortably.

“You seem a little stressed, Soo. What’s up?” Minseok said.

“H-huh? Stressed? No, I’m fine—” Kyungsoo started to say. His words died in his mouth when he saw the dry look Minseok gave him.

“I’ve been working here for years, Kyungsoo, I know when I see stressed. I mean, I do see Jongdae every day,” Minseok said, “is everything okay with work? You can always let us know if you’re unsure about something. Unless of course, it’s about your love life,” he smirked, “that I can’t help.”

“I don’t have a love life,” Kyungsoo blurted at once.

Minseok folded his arms, stroking his chin thoughtfully. “Oh, really? Then who was that guy hitting on you at the bar the other day? What you do in your free time is entirely of your business, but if it’s creeping up to ya during working hours then,” Minseok pursed his lips, “we obviously have a problem. Spill.”

Baekhyun wandered over just then, drinking from a box of orange juice noisily. “Wait, are we gossiping? Can't believe I wasn’t invited. C’mon, spill the beans, whatever it is. I’m so sick of colouring already.”

Kyungsoo sputtered, putting his hands up. “T-there’s nothing to talk about! I was just… _talking_ to him that night at the bar—”

“Talking? Really, Kyungsoo?” Minseok wrinkled his nose, “your mouth was busy, and it wasn’t because you were ‘talking’.”

“Ooh, are we talking about that boy you hooked up with at the bar?” Baekhyun said excitedly. “He had nice hair,” Baekhyun added, as if having great hair was a crucial detail amidst all this.

“I didn’t hook up with him,” Kyungsoo said in a high-pitched voice. Baekhyun and Minseok nudged each other, smirking knowingly. “Listen, Soo, it’s not the first time one of us has hooked up with someone while celebrating something,” Baekhyun said in what was supposed to be a reassuring manner. Kyungsoo felt far from reassured.  

“I-I don’t know what you want me to say about it, though,” Kyungsoo admitted reluctantly. Baekhyun looked like Kyungsoo had just slapped him with a wet fish.

“The sex, of course! Was it good? Did he ring your dong? Park it in the garage good?” he said loudly. Everyone in the office turned to look at them. Kyungsoo was just lucky Jongdae had stepped out for a meeting.

“Shut up!” Kyungsoo hissed, turning red.

“He did, then,” Baekhyun smiled, waggling his eyebrows. Kyungsoo wanted to hit him. “So like, what’s the hold up? He asked you out yet, call you back?” Minseok asked.

“He… he—” Words failed Kyungsoo. He couldn’t explain the situation without revealing too much details about himself or Jongin. Besides, warlock problems and a moon goddess trying to freeze time didn’t sound like something that could be discussed in the office.

“Oh, wait, I know that look,” Baekhyun said, “I’m betting that he _did_ call you back. But then you find out he has like ex problems, or he works for the mob. Right?”

Well, if he put it that way, then Kyungsoo supposed he was right. “Um, the job thing, yes… he doesn’t work in the mob or anything like that,” he added quickly, “but it’s… questionable. And I can tell he’s sort of guilty about it? But then he hasn’t been right, I think, since his ex was murdered…”

On cue, Minseok and Baekhyun went _aww_ together.

“Oh my God, that’s so tragic?” Baekhyun said, putting his orange juice down, “but you shouldn’t see this as an obstacle that can’t be tackled, Soo! Because the fact that he’s guilty shows he has a conscience, for one. And the fact that he’s doing it ‘cause of his ex just shows he loves _hard_ , y’know?”

“He’s right,” Minseok shrugged, “he looked like a good guy anyway. Hot, even if I do say so myself.” Baekhyun giggled.

“Give him a chance, Kyungsoo. Maybe all he needs is a little push. Talk to him about it, see if you can get him back on track. What’s more, he’ll thank you for it when he realizes he wasn’t seeing things right all along,” Minseok said, nodding wisely.

 _Give him a chance, huh?_ Kyungsoo thought. That was going to be hard since their chances turned to toast when he left Jongin’s apartment that day (he never got around to asking for his number too). But he now knew where Jongin lived, which was a step in the right direction.

“You guys… might be right, after all,” Kyungsoo said slowly, “maybe I was too quick to judge.” After all, Jongin had looked almost sad to be an instrument of chaos. He said it was for revenge, but Jongin wasn’t stupid.

 _I_ should _talk to him_ , Kyungsoo thought, scratching his neck subconsciously. He missed him anyway. It had only been three days since they last saw each other, but here Kyungsoo was, mooning over him like a lovesick fool. Ex trouble and evil villains be damned; Kaguya could freeze time, but Kyungsoo was infatuated.

“I’ll see him after work,” Kyungsoo said, in a determined tone.

“Why wait till after work? Get him during your lunch hour break,” Baekhyun said in an obnoxious, girly voice, “and get boned if you can too.”

-

Jongin was on the verge of setting the mirror in his bathroom on fire. He’d had just about enough of Kaguya appearing there, reminding him none too gently that he still had one more item to find to free her.

“I have grown weary of all this waiting, half-demon,” she’d said, not an hour ago through his bathroom mirror.

She’d given him the fright of his life when he stepped out of the shower and wiped the fog off the surface of the mirror, only to find a different face staring back at him. Kaguya had looked angrier than ever at Jongin.  

“While you continue to waste time, I could have found a more suitable servant to search for the jewel,” she said.

“Well, you can but he’s not going to have the other four items or the celestial robe,” Jongin snarled back. She’d paused for a moment, before mirror was bathed in bright light. Jongin barely avoided bright beams whipping through the bathroom just in time by ducking and rolling out of the way.

When he looked up, the glowing whips of light had left gouges through the walls of the bathroom. The white tiles of the bathroom were blackened, and he could even see the steel beams holding up the building.

“Twenty-four hours, warlock. That is all I give you, or you shall feel my wrath,” her voice said, before she went away. Jongin had had no choice but to put on his clothes and leave the apartment, knowing that she would haunt him if he stayed.

 _Where the hell am I supposed to find the jewel anyway?_ Jongin thought, biting on a warm pretzel. He was strolling through a day time street market, purchasing snacks to fill up his tummy.

It was the first time he’d been out of the apartment in a few days. Jongin had hoped that a walk would inspire new ideas on where to look for the jewel but for now, he was fresh out of inspiration.

He’d already tried the online library, looking up places in Korea that were rumoured to harbour dragon’s bones. He even tried looking for places that might be the hiding places of real, living dragons, though how he would know which dragon had the jewel on its neck was another problem.

He came up with nothing, on both counts. Jongin didn’t even know what the jewel looked like anyway. The ground was shrinking beneath his feet, and time was now running out.

 _Think, Jongin,_ he thought to himself.

He tried to recall some of the advice Suho had given to him once, when he was in trouble or couldn’t figure something out.

“Sometimes, the solution is simple, Jongin. Don’t always think about the big picture; it’s the details that leaves clues,” Suho had once said to him. _Maybe I need to think small, then,_ Jongin thought.

Maybe it was closer to home. Perhaps he might not need to conduct a citywide search, like he did with the cowrie shell. Still, Seoul was a big place, and it grew increasingly modern with each passing day. Forests and caves were disappearing one by one to make way for infrastructure. The ancient hiding places of the supernatural grew scarce with each step humankind took in the name of modernization.

Jongin could try asking other warlocks if anyone might’ve heard anything or even have their hands on it already, but it would be a suicide mission for sure. The international council of warlocks— Lilith’s Children— were something like the lawmakers for warlocks and could give the order to kill Jongin if they knew what he was helping Kaguya to do.

Besides, he only knew one particular warlock who wouldn’t tattle on him. And that warlock was—

“Jongin!” Luhan’s voice called.

 _Speak of the devil and he shall appear_ , Jongin thought. He twisted round on one foot, spotting a head of toffee coloured hair. The last time Jongin saw him he had pink streaks in, but now his hair was streaked with pastel blue. Luhan waved happily at Jongin, skipping through the crowd to where he stood.

“Hello, Jongin!” Luhan said cheerfully. Where he got all his energy and cheer from, Jongin didn’t know. Maybe from a bottle; most warlocks lost all their optimism after their first century.

Luhan snatched Jongin’s pretzel away and began munching on it like a squirrel. Jongin stared wordlessly and shrugged. Better to let Luhan have it than to argue with him anyway.

“How strange of you to call me out on weekday night, Jongin. I pushed back opening the bar for you, y’know. What’s up?” Luhan said.

“Well…” Jongin began reluctantly, “I just thought I’d call you to apologize,” he mumbled.

“Pardon?” Luhan said, squinting at him while chewing on his pretzel.

“I wanted to apologize,” Jongin said, a little louder. God, he hated doing this. Maybe it was a mistake to call Luhan after he left the apartment.

“Alright, there’s no need to shout,” Luhan smiled. Jongin rolled his eyes.

“C’mon, if you wanna talk, we’ll go to this dakgalbi place nearby,” Luhan nudged him playfully. Linking arms, Luhan led him through the crowd. Jongin let him, because he was too tired of life to think anymore.

When they reached the place, Luhan asked for a private table, and they were led to a secluded corner for two. Jongin suspected the lady owner of the restaurant thought they were a gay couple, but he’d had people thinking worse things about him. They sat down, and ordered some food and drinks off the menu.

“So, I’m sure you must have something on your mind for you to be desperate enough to call me out on a weekday but really, I just came ‘cause I wanted to know what’s going on between you and Kyungsoo, that lil’ cutie you brought in the other day for your date,” Luhan winked at Jongin.

Ah. After all the effort Jongin had put in to _not_ think about Kyungsoo. It’d been a real struggle, in all honesty, to keep from distracting himself with thoughts of Kyungsoo, and the way they’d left things. Jongin wasn’t sure what to say to Luhan. He fucked up the next best thing that had ever happened to him since Sehun?

He waved Luhan’s question away. “No comment. Let’s move on to more urgent things…”

“No, I wanna hear it! You slept with him, didn’t you? But is it deep now, or is he just a one night stand?” Luhan pouted.

Jongin scratched his head awkwardly. “Well, maybe the deep conversations part happened—”

“I can’t believe you think you can lie to my face and pretend you didn’t sleep with him,” Luhan rolled his eyes at Jongin. A waitress came and served them two mugs of cold beer. Luhan took a large, deliberate swig, squinting at Jongin.

“Okay fine, yeah, I did. What’s up with that anyway, it’s not like it’s the first time I’ve done it,” Jongin said defensively.

“Well sure, you’re no virgin and no Virgo, but it is the first time you’ve actually brought someone out on a date. Hasn’t been like… oh, let’s see, _centuries_ since you’ve dated anyone since Sehun?”

“I think I predate dates. I don’t think it counts,” Jongin muttered, sipping at his beer tentatively.

“Who cares if you were born before the concept of dating was invented? You banged him, you had deep conversations with him, I think it counts. But I sense a ‘but’ somewhere, Jongin, so what did you do this time?” Luhan said, propping his chin up with his hands.

Jongin considered not answering at all. But when Luhan continued to wait expectantly, Jongin caved in. “He found out,” Jongin sighed, “about Kaguya and all.” Luhan gasped quietly.

“It was pretty bad. And he didn’t know he was a warlock too, so I’m sure that must’ve contributed to his bad mood.”

Jongin remembered the night Kyungsoo left. There was a look of betrayal on Kyungsoo’s face, and Jongin knew it wasn’t because he’d found out he was a warlock. Jongin had put that look on his face, and he had had no idea how to fix it. His present and past had collided in that moment, and all he could do was watch Kyungsoo walk out of his life.

“He didn’t know?” Luhan asked, wrinkling his nose, “well, I suppose he’s one of those unlucky ones. What abilities does he have?”

“He said he can feel emotions through touch. And I might’ve hurt him the first time we met. I burned him, apparently,” Jongin gestured at his own hand. Luhan cocked his head to one side.

“That was you? He collapsed in front of the restaurant the other day, and had a burn on his hand, just like you said. I didn’t realize it was you…”

“I think it must’ve been the first time he touched a warlock. He always kept a distance from others,” Jongin said distractedly, thinking about the way Kyungsoo had avoided others.

Sometimes it happened if a warlock went for years without meeting another. ‘Sparks’ could happen between their auras when they came into contact, manifesting in many ways. In Kyungsoo’s case, it had been a burn. _Kyungsoo must’ve kept to himself for a good number of years,_ Jongin thought.

He felt oddly sad for him. Likely, Kyungsoo had done it because of his abilities. _That’s no way for any warlock to live,_ Jongin thought. 

“Well, I suppose he didn’t keep his distance from you,” Luhan said pointedly. Jongin bit down on his reply as their food came in sizzling pans. They were silent for a few moments as they chewed on some kimchi and pickled radish.

“I guess he must’ve needed a moment to himself,” Luhan spoke up first, stirring the chicken. “It’d be a shock, understandably, for anyone who’s thought he’s human all his life only to find out that he isn’t.”

“Yes, but… he could’ve called or something. Or given me his number,” Jongin grumbled. Luhan looked at him with renewed interest.

“Oh, so you _want_ another date? Damn, Jongin, he must really be somethin’ after all,” Luhan remarked, cackling when Jongin blushed. Luhan scooped some chicken for Jongin, and then for himself. They dug into the warm rice, relishing in the spicy flavour of the chicken.

“He’s just different,” Jongin said quietly, “there’s something really innocent about him. It feels like… like first love.”

Luhan nodded. “That sounds special to me. But you need to give him space, Jongin. I’m sure he’ll come back after a while if it’s really meant to be. Or maybe destiny will bring you two together again, y’know? You can't be rushing when it’s about falling in love.”

Jongin wouldn’t say he was _in love_ with Kyungsoo, but… he definitely felt something. And it hurt to see Kyungsoo leave. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was betraying Sehun, though.

“Yeah, I guess so,” Jongin said evasively, shovelling more rice into his mouth.

Sensing that Jongin didn’t want to say any more on this topic, Luhan switched gears. “Well, moving on,” Luhan said decisively, “what’s up with the moon and the Kaguya situation? I thought I told you to stay away from her.” Luhan gave Jongin a chastising look.

“As if I take orders from you,” Jongin scoffed. Luhan hit him over the head with his spoon.

“Don’t be so bloody rude,” Luhan warned him, “and this is Kaguya we’re talking about. She’s a goddess, a higher being than even us warlocks. Her powers and the things that she’s looking for aren’t things to be trifled with.”

“I wasn’t aware that I was known for trifling with goddesses,” Jongin remarked.

“Maybe not, but you still gotta be careful around her. I asked around about her just the other day, actually. You remember Hongbin, right? He told me something that was—” Luhan paused uncertainly, “frankly quite worrying.”

“Why? What’d he say?” Jongin asked.

Hongbin was their fellow warlock who lived in Beijing. He was constantly holed up in ancient libraries all over the world to learn more about demonology, and was currently working on a warlock family tree record of sorts.

Every warlock in the world was invited to tell him who their father was, so he could trace every warlock’s ancestry. That meant possibly uniting half-siblings, which was a lovely thought, but Jongin wouldn’t want to meet anyone who had anything to do with his father.

“It could be nothing,” Luhan said, “though you know Hongbin’s information is usually good. He told me that he heard some rumours a long time ago about Kaguya. She might not be who she says she is, apparently…”

Jongin’s chopsticks stopped midair. That wasn’t nothing.

“What do you mean by that?” he asked in a low voice. Last time he checked, there was only one princess of the moon.

“Well, I told you last time that there’s this one version of the story that claims she came back to earth one last time, right? She took off her celestial robe to bathe in a hot spring, and that was how it’d gotten stolen.” Jongin nodded.

“But Hongbin said that maybe that wasn’t all that happened. Princess Kaguya did get her robes stolen, yes, but she might’ve been sealed away in a mirror not because some foolish human thought that it’d be a great idea to keep a goddess sealed on Earth. They say that she was sealed away because the real princess had been _eaten by a demon._ ”

Jongin swallowed thickly. His stomach dropped to his feet, and his appetite vanished.

“How… how is that possible? She’s a _goddess_ , Luhan,” Jongin said in a whisper.

“That’s what makes her all the more valuable, Jongin,” Luhan said grimly, “and because she had her celestial robe taken, it might’ve made it difficult for her to fight off a demon. And after she’d been eaten, this demon started to kill people in villages, demanding for her celestial robe.

“That was why a monk sealed her into the mirror to keep the celestial robes off her hands. Then it was presumed someone burned it at Mount Fuji, but seeing as it’s still in your keeping…” Luhan trailed off.

Jongin put his chopsticks down. He rubbed at his eyes tiredly. “Christ, Luhan. What if this is all real?”

“I don’t know, Jongin. I mean, does she act like a princess would? Has she been… well, acting like a demon?” Luhan asked.

“Kind of, yeah. She’s super demanding, for one. And she tried to kill me before I came out of my apartment just now,” Jongin told him. Luhan tapped his chin thoughtfully.

“It’s a possibility, Jongin. Because for one, a demon can’t break a seal easily. It can only be done by someone with holy powers, or if someone else breaks it for her,” Luhan said. “I don’t mean to be the bearer of bad news but… Jongin, she might actually be an imposter.”

To say that this was devastating would be an understatement.

Not only had Jongin been cheated, but he was now tied to her. There was absolutely no way he could throw her off his trail for the rest of time. Jongin was sure that she would find a way somehow, to get him to finish the job or kill him off.

He placed his head in his hands. Luhan patted him gently. “Jongin, listen... I know you’re between a rock and a hard place right now, but I’ll help you in any way I can.”

“No one can undo this,” Jongin mumbled, “God, I never should’ve gotten involved in the first place.”

“Hey, don’t be like that. Suho was the one who recommended this to you, remember? Anyone with a weakness could’ve fallen for it, honestly, Jongin. That’s what demons do, they prey on your weaknesses and try to twist things out to seem better than what they really are.”

“But I should’ve known,” Jongin said quietly, “Suho was... he was old. I should’ve known that he might not have been thinking straight anymore.” Luhan crawled over to Jongin’s side of the table.

He threw his arms over Jongin and hugged him tightly. Jongin hugged him back, leaning his head on Luhan’s shoulder.

“Look, there’ll be a way out of this, okay? I’m sure there’s something we can do. You have the celestial robe, don’t you?” Jongin nodded against his shoulder.

“Okay. So that’s our ace. And what were you supposed to do with all the items she told you to collect? Did she say anything?” Luhan asked. Jongin pulled away to speak, grateful that Luhan was trying to help.

“She said I’d have to drop them all into the five lakes around Mount Fuji. She didn’t give me any details, but I assume the items correspond to each of the lakes and breaks her seal.” Luhan picked up his beer and drank from it. He put it down and seemed to think a little harder, frowning slightly.

“If it has to be dropped into water… then what if you burned them?” Luhan suggested, “fire is of course, your specialty.”

“Burn them?” Jongin repeated incredulously.

 “Uh-huh,” Luhan nodded at Jongin, “they’re nothing more than regular items if you haven’t dropped them into any of the lakes. ‘S not like you can do much with a begging bowl, or that cowrie shell anyway,” Luhan retorted.

It sounded like a crazy idea but… then again, it made sense. Until the items were dropped into the five lakes surrounding Mount Fuji, they weren’t worth a lot. Burning could keep them out of the wrong hands forever.

Jongin snapped his fingers impatiently. “But the jewel from the dragon’s neck. That can’t be any regular item, right?” Luhan frowned again.

“Ah yes… that will probably have some kind of magic. You haven’t found it yet, have you?”

Jongin shook his head. “Then that’s what you’ll have to do, Jongin. Find it, and burn them all. No loose ends. You’re gonna have to find the jewel quickly before Kaguya realizes what you’re going to do. She’s sealed up, but that doesn’t mean she’s entirely powerless.”

Luhan seemed to shudder at the thought. And after that sideshow she’d put on tonight, Jongin was going to have to be on guard.

“I’ll do it,” Jongin said determinedly. Luhan placed a hand on his shoulder. “And in the meantime, Jongin… try not to get yourself killed.”

-

Kyungsoo had to run to catch the bus to Jongin’s apartment, hopping on just in time before it went off.

He had been mulling about whether he really should be heading over to Jongin’s place to have a discussion as serious as this.

He was of the opinion that if there was potential for an argument, then it was better to meet on neutral ground. To go over and just start telling Jongin that he should quit the search for the jewel from the dragon’s neck seemed a little dictatorial for Kyungsoo. Jongin didn’t owe him anything. And he was all about avoiding confrontations.

His reservations about the entire matter was what kept in the office, working through his usual lunch hour break alone. The other employees had left together in a group, thus leaving him alone with his thoughts.  

Despite this, Kyungsoo changed his mind at the last second when he’d caught a glance at the clock on the wall. He ran out with his briefcase, his blazer slung haphazardly over his body as he ran down the street.

He’d be lying anyway, if he said he hadn’t thought about the way Jongin looked at him. There was just something so magic about him, something that had nothing to do with his pyrokinetic abilities and his demon blood. Besides, it was hard to forget him when the media was constantly covering stories about the full moon.

Many people had theories as to why the moon was still full even after almost a month, which was a highly unnatural phenomenon. Some thought it was a sign that the apocalypse was coming, while others thought it maybe the moon or Earth itself was not spinning on its axis the way it was supposed to.

Kyungsoo of course, knew better. It was probably some kind of illusion that Kaguya had cast over the real moon. The sea tides were unaffected, for one. If it had been a real full moon, then the tides would have changed significantly.

Nonetheless, it was worrying. Any minute, any time now, and Jongin might be able to find the jewel. Then there would be no stopping Kaguya from doing whatever she wanted. Time would come to a standstill. Life as Kyungsoo knew it would be over.

It gave him the chills, the thought of being frozen within a single moment forever. Unable to move backwards or forwards in time. Logically, he wouldn’t feel it, of course. But nobody would ever want to be stuck like that, which was what stumped Kyungsoo on why Jongin wanted to do this.

 _Maybe he can’t live with the guilt,_ Kyungsoo thought. Guilt and despair, the two emotions that had remained constant in Jongin’s life throughout the centuries. And Kyungsoo had only gotten a taste of what his life was like. For him to have lived with the emotional pain for so long…

Kyungsoo could only imagine the psychological damages. This was probably the next best thing to suicide for Jongin.

Yet, Kyungsoo still felt like he needed to try. He had to show Jongin that this wasn’t the end, that there was more to life than just pain. Kyungsoo had no idea how, but he wanted to help Jongin heal. The glimpses of Jongin’s real, happy self he’d seen in brief moments gave Kyungsoo hope that maybe the little kid Jongin used to be was still in there somewhere, waiting for help that never came.

-

The afternoon sun shone above Jongin’s head as he made his way through the overgrown path leading to Suho’s den. Mother Nature had taken over since the last time he came. Weeds and vines grew like snakes, covering the naked soil exposed within the crater.

However, Jongin was more interested in something else aside from Suho’s land tonight. He’d come here on a hunch, really, just to check on something.

Jongin heaved a sigh of relief when he spotted the den, standing in what seemed like a random spot, its four walls and everything inside it still intact. The wards protected the room like a shield, even from rain or shine. Since the wards were only conditioned to accept Jongin and Suho’s entrance, it also repelled anyone who might try to enter it.

As he approached it, the outline of the den glowed with a bluish light, like some bizarre, life-sized cube.

Jongin stepped in, feeling the wards give way to his presence gently like a spider's web. He glanced around the den; nothing seemed out of place, not even the lingering scent of Suho’s cologne. Jongin felt a pang of nostalgia hit him right in his chest. He was tired of losing the people he wasn't supposed to lose.

He went to the piano, pressing the familiar keys. When the secret staircase was revealed, Jongin pattered down, going over to ornaments section.

Luhan had given him a good idea earlier during lunch. Jongin had mentioned to him that the jewel could've been in some warlock’s hands already, which would explain the difficulty in finding the final item. “Well, have you checked Suho’s collection?” Luhan had asked. 

Jongin paused at that. “What?”

“Suho’s collection. He's a warlock too, y’know, and a very old one at that. What makes you think he might not have already gotten the jewel in the first place?” Luhan had cocked his head at him.

“I. Don't you think he would've mentioned it in that letter he left for me before he went into the Void?” Jongin had countered.

“Perhaps he'd thought that you'd have more sense than this,” Luhan replied airily.

And so, even if it was a long shot, Jongin had come to poke around Suho's collection. He wasn't entirely sure if he'd find the jewel, though it would've been convenient. So far, he'd already come across some pretty strange items, like voodoo dolls, skulls that didn’t belong to humans, pieces of old fabric in elaborate cases and so on.

Whether or not he found the jewel here, Jongin wanted to collect the other four items and put it in his apartment anyway. He could start by burning them first and settle the jewel later.

“Hmm,” he pursed his lips. The ornaments section didn’t yield anything. No jewels or even necklaces with large jewels.

He moved on to another section; crystal balls. Suho had told him that some contained spirits or the essence of demigods.  Jongin wasn't sure how much of that was true, but he knew better than to look too closely at the crystal balls regardless. Jongin just glanced through the shelves briefly, crouching down on his knees to look at the ones tucked below eye level.

At first, all he saw were five crystal balls, placed in boxes with their covers open on the bottom shelf. Then he noticed one of the covers was propped up, which should’ve been impossible without some kind of support since it was a wooden box made of heavy mahogany.

Jongin reached in and flipped the cover shut over the crystal balls. To his immense surprise, behind it stood another wooden box.

It was leaning against the wall, and was completely devoid of any decorations on the outside. If anything, the box looked suspicious considering that it was hidden away like this.

He paused momentarily, wondering if he really should be sniffing around mysterious, closed boxes in a room full of magical relics. After all, Jongin wasn’t a sorcerer, just someone who could summon fire. If anything dangerous came out of that box, there was only so much he could do to protect himself without destroying the other items in the room.

Jongin wanted to clear off, but he knew he couldn’t leave it to chance. He _had_ to see what was inside.

With a sigh, Jongin grabbed the box, fingers curling around it. He half-expected the box to prevent him from holding it, but nothing happened. And whatever was inside weighed quite a bit. It rattled slightly when he turned it over to inspect the box, but otherwise there was no indication as to what was inside.

Jongin thought it was rather like Christmas, except whatever inside the box could kill him. And even though it was a little too late, he wished he’d never signed up to help the princess in the first place.

 _Wouldn’t be in this bloody mess if I’d just sat down and shut up_ , Jongin thought irritably.

And because there was nothing else to do, he began to look for a way to open the box. There was a clasp on the side, which could be undone with a flick of his finger. The clasp was made of gold— or at least, gleamed like gold. When he looked closer, he also realized it was carved in the shape of a dragon, the clasp held within the dragon’s mouth.

Jongin’s heart skipped a beat. Could it really be?

If this was truly the jewel, then why did Suho fail to tell him that it had been here all this time? Had it been some kind of trick, or did Jongin miss a clue when Suho was still alive? Dozens of questions swirled around his head, none of which he had the answers.

He undid the clasp, watching it click open quietly. Taking a deep breath, Jongin braced his hand on the cover, and lifted it.

*

Kyungsoo paced nervously at the bus stop, asking himself for the nth time if he was doing the right thing by coming here. He had already arrived at Jongin’s residential area, but still couldn’t find the courage in himself to walk down the path Jongin had taken when leading him to the apartment.

Instead, Kyungsoo settled for pacing back and forth like a madman right by the road, trying to psyche himself into just _doing it_ already.

 _It’s not like you’ve never done worse things with him,_ he told himself. They’d definitely reached a different level of intimacy that made talking look mild. So why was he being so needlessly anxious about this?

The truth was that Kyungsoo just didn’t want to be too honest with himself just yet. He knew fully well what might happen if he had this conversation with Jongin. _This could really end things between us_ , he thought.

And to lose that brief, special spark between them made him sick to the stomach. Jongin might never want to speak to him again. And Kyungsoo cared for Jongin more than he’d like to explain, for some inexplicable reason.

Not that he’d ever admit that to anyone on this side of the grave, of course.

“Urgh,” Kyungsoo groaned, placing his face in his hands. All he wanted was something simple, a connection with someone. He never asked for universal drama.

Casting all his thoughts aside, Kyungsoo forced himself to walk towards Jongin’s apartment entrance. He had to do this sooner rather than later. The area looked different during the day, but he thought he could retrace the steps he’d taken.

Kyungsoo was just taking a turn into a smaller pathway, recognizing certain shapes as he walked when he saw someone up ahead, wearing a dark blue long coat. It struck him as familiar, from the silhouette down to the way the figure hunched forward while walking. Almost without thinking, Kyungsoo called out, “Jongin!”

The figure turned at once, visibly surprised. As Kyungsoo had guessed, it was Jongin. He looked even more startled to see Kyungsoo here, his mouth dropping open slightly.

“K-Kyungsoo? What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at work?” he asked, when Kyungsoo jogged over. In the sunlight, his eyes were especially bright, and it brought out the silver in his hair. Kyungsoo had not the slightest idea how much he’d actually missed Jongin until that very moment.  

“I’m on my break right now, actually. And Baekhyun will cover for me if my boss asks,” Kyungsoo replied, sounding more confident than he felt. In any case, he trusted Baekhyun to know what to say if he took more than an hour to get back. (Although he doubted any boning would happen today.)

“Oh,” Jongin blinked slowly, “so um… what brings you here?” he asked, almost shy.

“I— I wanted to talk to you in person,” Kyungsoo shrugged. That sounded more awkward than he expected. Then he noticed that Jongin had a messenger bag slung across his shoulders, half hidden in the shadow of his coat. Jongin caught the line of his gaze, and Kyungsoo could tell what was inside almost at once from the guilty look in his eyes.

“Wait! Before you say anything—”

“No, I do have a lot to say,” Kyungsoo interrupted, pointing at his bag, “about _this_. Is that what I think it is?”

“Yes, but hold on—”

“No, Jongin, no,” Kyungsoo shook his head, “if that bag is hiding what I think it’s hiding then I need you to hear me out on this first. I’m not going to stand by any longer and let you keep doing this to yourself.” It came out before Kyungsoo even realized what was happening.

Whatever Jongin had been planning to say died in his mouth as he stared at Kyungsoo in stunned silence. Kyungsoo felt as surprised as Jongin looked. Where did all of that confidence come from anyway?

“I’m sorry,” Kyungsoo reddened, “what were you going to say? I-I didn’t mean to just talk over you like that…”

Jongin smiled then, gaze dropping briefly. “It’s fine, Kyungsoo. You were right, you know, about doing this to the world,” he gestured at the bag.

“I have no right to decide what happens to everyone. But I was going to come clean to you anyway.”

“Come clean? About what?” Kyungsoo frowned.

Jongin looked around cautiously. “Maybe we’ll talk about it in private. Do you have the time?” Kyungsoo nodded.

Soon, Kyungsoo found himself being led to Jongin’s apartment once again. They kept quiet along the way, both brimming with words that threatened to spill out of their mouths as soon as the moment was right. Kyungsoo had never felt so scared in his life to say the things that needed to be said.

Thankfully, the elevator ride was short and they made it into his apartment in record time. Jongin shut the door when they were inside, and turned to look at Kyungsoo.

“So,” Kyungsoo said questioningly.

“We’ve been here before,” Jongin smiled crookedly. Kyungsoo preferred not to think about the last time he was standing here in his living room, practically begging Jongin to kiss him. Some memories were better left untouched, especially if they weren’t going to relieve those times…

“Yes, we have,” Kyungsoo cleared his throat, determined to break the pattern. He placed his coat down on the sofa, adjusting the collar of his shirt.

“Would you like to drink anything? Water? Soda?” Jongin offered, placing his bag down on the dining table instead. Kyungsoo shook his head.

“No, I can’t stay long. But thank you,” Kyungsoo said. He didn’t remember things being this awkward between them. Perhaps it was better to just cut things to the quick; he did have a job to get back to within the hour, after all.

“Um, picking from where we left off,” Kyungsoo gestured vaguely at the bag on the table.

“Ah, right,” Jongin nodded, looking vaguely disappointed. Had he expected Kyungsoo to say something else? Jongin moved to stand over his bag, unzipping it and shoving his hands into it.

“I got all the items together,” Jongin said, as he seemed to search for something.

“You really found it then? The jewel from the dragon’s neck?” Kyungsoo asked incredulously. “Yes, I did. It was at Suho’s secret collection all along, and I have no idea why he never said anything about it, but here it is,” Jongin said, and brought out both of his hands.

In one of his hands, he held a gleaming, perfectly round jewel. It looked mystical, with swirls of smoke constantly moving and curling within the jewel from an unseen source. Kyungsoo covered his mouth with a hand.

This was undoubtedly the jewel Kaguya had sent her suitors out to seek, and for good reason. It looked deadly, like a beautiful weapon.

Jongin set it down on the table gently.

“God. It’s real, then, all of the items,” Kyungsoo said quietly. Not that he’d distrusted Jongin, but to see a jewel so unusual like this with his own eyes… It was a legend come to life. Jongin nodded grimly.

“They’re very real,” Jongin affirmed. Which made what Kyungsoo had come to say all the more important.

“Good Lord, where do I even begin? Um, I… I know it’s incredibly rude for me to just come by like this,” Kyungsoo said, going over to the sofa and taking a seat. He rubbed at his wrists distractedly.

“But I had to come anyway because I couldn’t bear the thought of you doing this because you think it’s what you’re meant to do, Jongin. It’s not, no matter what’s in your blood or what happened to you before,” Kyungsoo said in a quiet voice. Jongin seemed to shift uncomfortably at that, merely nodding as he spoke.

“I understand that you wanted revenge, Jongin. I really do. Don’t you think I’ve wished for things to go a little differently for me too? So many things have happened that I can’t change. But I know that there’s nothing set in stone when it comes to the future, which means you can still change your mind.

“Because I know there’s only one part of your heritage that gives you a heart, and I know it didn’t come from your father.”

Jongin sighed loudly, his breath exhaling in a whoosh. Kyungsoo waited for him to say something. He didn’t speak for a long time, his head hanging low. Kyungsoo could hardly take the suspense, clenching his hands into fists.

 _Just say something,_ he willed Jongin silently. Anything.

“I… I don’t know about that, Kyungsoo,” Jongin began slowly, his fingers fidgeting restlessly, “I didn’t start out wanting revenge at first. I just… wanted to be strong, regardless of whether there’s a full moon or a new moon at night. I didn’t want to be weak anymore.

“I wanted to protect the people I care about. And if the collateral damage was humanity, who was I to care?” his voice cracked at the end.

“I could’ve saved Sehun that night if it wasn’t for the new moon. I really believed that, Kyungsoo. Until I met you,” he laughed half-heartedly, “and you told me that all of this still wouldn’t bring Sehun back… I can freeze time, but I can never go back and undo what happened to him.”

Kyungsoo wanted to heave a sigh of relief. The wistful tone of Jongin’s voice broke his heart, but he was glad that Jongin had come to his senses.

“I-I guess it was the wakeup call I needed. I’d been dreaming away my life, thinking about all the what if’s. And I’m lucky you told me that, because I met up with Luhan.”

“He told me stuff, Kyungsoo. Nothing’s as it’s cracked up to be. Kaguya is a demon, and she’s going to come after the celestial robe if I free her. So yes, I do have the jewel from the dragon’s neck, but,” Jongin placed a hand over his bag, “I’m gonna burn it. I have to end this before I really do something that can’t be reversed.”

There was it. He had spoken the words that Kyungsoo wanted to hear.

He leapt to his feet and threw himself at Jongin, who stumbled back from Kyungsoo’s weight. Jongin’s familiar scent filled Kyungsoo’s nostrils as he buried his face into the crook of Jongin’s neck.

“I’m glad you can finally see the truth,” Kyungsoo whispered, “you’re not some awful monster, Jongin. You’re _you_ , you are whoever you decide to be and it has nothing to do with your weakness, or whatever it is you call it.” 

Jongin shuddered with a sigh, his hands coming up around Kyungsoo’s waist.

“I don’t think Sehun would’ve wanted me to do this either,” Jongin whispered back.

Kyungsoo understood. A tear rolled down his cheek.

“You wanted to protect him. There’s nothing wrong with that, Jongin,” Kyungsoo said, pulling back to cradle Jongin’s face, “I’m not asking you to forget about Sehun. I know you probably never will, and that’s fine.”

Some wounds just needed more time to heal than the rest. “But you needed to see that it wasn’t your fault,” Kyungsoo kissed him gently. He slung his hands around Jongin’s neck, grateful to be able to hold Jongin’s like this.

Jongin smiled sadly, tasting the salt of Kyungsoo’s tears. “I’ll never be a real warlock,” he mumbled, his hand coming up to trace a line over Kyungsoo’s lower lip. Kyungsoo felt a giggle bubbling in his chest.

“How were you going to be a real warlock if she freezes time, Jongin? Won’t you be frozen in time like the rest of us?” Kyungsoo asked.

“No,” Jongin shook his head, sniffling, “warlocks are unaffected by the flow of time. We’re immortal, so every warlock in the world would’ve been free to do whatever they wanted, be whoever they wanted to be.”

Kyungsoo pressed his face to Jongin’s. Who’d have known that Jongin had such a heart of gold? _He’s so precious_ , Kyungsoo thought. And though he couldn’t do much, he wanted to protect Jongin. Someone had to, after all these years of Jongin wandering like a lost soul.

“Well, if we survive this, Jongin, then I can promise you that we can spend the rest of eternity looking for a way,” Kyungsoo said.

“We?” Jongin repeated quietly.

Kyungsoo hesitated at that, wondering if he’d jumped the gun. Abruptly, he felt Jongin’s emotions rushing in from his hands rested around Jongin’s neck.

The despair and guilt he’d once felt no longer overpowered him. Instead, there was a fuzzy feeling in Kyungsoo’s chest. It felt like hope, and Kyungsoo didn’t need to be able to read Jongin’s mind to know that it was the first time in a long while since Jongin had felt this way.

“We,” Kyungsoo nodded in affirmation. _You’re not alone anymore, Jongin._

*

Day progressed steadily into evening.

Kyungsoo was back in the office, forcing himself to focus at work as he typed up some documents. He was practically breaking his back in the office to make up for the fact that he’d made it back in time with only minutes to spare from his lunch hour break.

He didn’t even eat properly, just shoved some biscuits into his mouth from the pantry and threw himself into work. Which was just as well, because his stomach was churning with anxiety the entire time.

He’d promised Jongin that he’d stop by at Suho’s mansion later in the evening, right before the full moon came up. Jongin was going to burn the items once and for all, but he was going to need his abilities at full force, and unfortunately that meant waiting until the full moon was up in the sky.

Of course, this would mean Kaguya would know what they were doing. Jongin was certain she kept watch on him during nights, when her hold on this world was the strongest.

But they had no choice except to take the risk, even if they were working on a very slim chance. And as much as Kyungsoo wanted to try and help Jongin come up with a better solution, Kyungsoo still couldn’t lose his job on the off chance they survived all this.

“Hey, Kyungsoo,” Jongdae’s voice broke through Kyungsoo’s scattered thoughts. Every part of his brain was preoccupied at the moment, but he’d somehow managed to complete some of his work so far.

“Hey,” Kyungsoo greeted, looking over his shoulder. Jongdae sauntered over, a small, approving smile on his face.

“I just wanted to let you know I saw some of the documents you’ve uploaded into the Cloud system. Campaigns usually take a long time to pull off, but you’ve really made some significant progress for us, Kyungsoo. We’ll be able to make our deadline if you keep this up,” Jongdae said, beaming proudly at Kyungsoo.

“Thanks, Jongdae, I was just making up for lost time during my lunch break,” Kyungsoo said sheepishly.

“Your lunch break?” Jongdae remarked with some surprise, “don’t tell me you were working during your lunch hour. Have you eaten?” he asked in concern.

“Y-yes, yes I have!” Kyungsoo replied, “I did eat, I just… had an emergency and left to deal with it for a while. But it won’t happen again, I promise.” Jongdae looked more concerned than angry.

“Did something happen? Is it family?” Jongdae asked, placing a hand on Kyungsoo’s shoulder. At once, Kyungsoo could tell that Jongdae’s worry came from personal experience.

Kyungsoo remembered what Minseok had said about his ugly divorce, and how it tore Jongdae up inside for failing to be the ideal father to his daughter. He genuinely cared about family, whether it was his employee’s family, or his own.

“Something like that,” Kyungsoo replied slowly. Jongdae nodded understandingly. Sympathy bled from his hand. But before he could remove his hand from Kyungsoo’s shoulder, Kyungsoo grabbed at him, knowing he was crossing the line here. He couldn’t possibly tell Jongdae everything, but he could give him one last good moment with his daughter.

 _Just in case_ , Kyungsoo thought. Jongdae, of all people, deserved it.

“You should call your daughter up,” Kyungsoo said in a low voice, “tell her you love her.”

Jongdae immediately narrowed his eyes, and Kyungsoo felt his suspicion. No doubt, there were hundreds of questions running through his mind about how Kyungsoo knew, or why he was even saying this. Kyungsoo shook his head slowly.

“Trust me,” Kyungsoo whispered.

And miraculously, despite the heightened sense of suspicion from Jongdae, he swallowed and nodded. He pulled away from Kyungsoo, appearing somewhat uncomfortable, and began to walk back to his own office. Relieved, Kyungsoo leaned back in his chair. Whether he made the call or not was his choice. Kyungsoo just didn’t want Jongdae to be miserable if anything happened.

-

At 5.30PM, Kyungsoo called it a day. He finished most of his work, leaving whatever he hadn’t done to Yixing, who’d offered to finish up everything. When he checked his phone in the elevator on the way down, he saw a text from an unknown number, containing an address.  

 _‘Jngoin heree. Meet at 6 30’_ was all the text said, apart from the address.

Kyungsoo rolled his eyes. Apparently, Jongin was too old to pick up the ability to text or spell properly.

 _Guess he’s not perfect, even if he’s a warlock_ , Kyungsoo thought. Nonetheless, Kyungsoo thought it was adorable that Jongin couldn’t text well. Perhaps he was more of a handwritten love letter kind of guy. Kyungsoo blushed. Jongin had learned how to read and write because of Sehun. Kyungsoo might have to thank Sehun for that.

Since he had an hour to kill, Kyungsoo decided to go home first to shower. The sky was in colourful hues of pink and orange when he got home, so he figured it would be safe. The moon wouldn’t be out till it was a little darker, and he wouldn’t take long to shower.

However, he couldn’t help but feel shivers run down his spine when he unlocked his front door and entered. Everything was shrouded in darkness, like it was night already. It felt like his apartment had been blanketed with a black cloth, leaving nothing for his eyes to discern.

 _Could Kaguya be watching?_ he asked himself, flicking on the lights.

Nothing jumped out from the dark as light flooded the place, but he couldn’t help imagining shadows flickering around in his peripheral vision as he moved around. The fact that Kaguya was not a goddess but a demon just made Kyungsoo feel the all the more afraid.

 _There’s nothing she can do to me_ , he told himself firmly. Besides, she wasn’t a ghost. Even if she was watching him, she couldn’t do anything to him... Or at least, he hoped was the case. To reaffirm this, he played some music from his phone defiantly, humming along.

Kyungsoo went through his routine quickly, undressing and leaving his clothes on the floor. He hopped into the shower not long after all, and was grateful to feel the hot water running over his face and body.

It had been a long day, chasing after Jongin and working at the office tirelessly.

But he realized that if he was immortal, then none of this would last for very long. _I might have to switch jobs after a while,_ he thought. It would look strange if he worked for the same company with the same staff for years without aging. A shame, but he would deal with that when the time came.

 _If the time ever comes,_ he corrected himself.

After washing himself till he felt clean and fresh, Kyungsoo stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel. The vanity mirror had fogged up, so he swiped at the surface with his towel. One minute, he was looking at a blurry reflection of himself. The next, the face in the mirror was not of his own.

Kyungsoo choked back a scream when the face, a woman, locked gazes with him. His mirror began to glow, and the beginnings of a very strong aura began to radiate from it. He felt it through the towel, like a heat wave.

“K-Kaguya?” he croaked, his towel dropping to the ground, forgotten.

“I am called Princess Kaguya of the Heaven, who resides in the Moon,” she replied. The princess sounded elegant, timeless. But Kyungsoo could see that it was a pretence, a mask to hide her true nature. Demons were good at putting on a show, even though they always showed their true colours some time or another.

“Why are you here?” Kyungsoo asked dumbly. She looked irritated to be questioned.

“I have seen you more than once with that half-demon, Jongin. He holds great affection for you,” she stated. Then she tipped her head to one side, seeming to assess him carefully.

It was like being assessed by God Himself; Kyungsoo almost felt like she could see into his soul, into his every waking thought.

“You… are not human,” she said, almost thoughtfully.

Kyungsoo blinked at her, unsure of what to say.

“Your blood calls to me, the blood of a warlock... Yet I see you have no mark upon your body. How strange, in times like these,” she murmured, “but it is not uncommon. There have been many like you, warlocks with no mark, and all came from the same ancestry.”

Kyungsoo’s jaw dropped open. She knew what he was? Even Kyungsoo himself didn’t have the time to ask Jongin about it yet.

“Warlocks with no marks are said to have Nephilim ancestry, young half-demon. And demon’s blood combined with that of Nephilim’s creates the most powerful of beings…”

“What’re you saying?” he narrowed his eyes. This was taking a turn that he hadn’t expected. She sounded like she was about to make him an offer, just like the way she had done with Jongin. _The devil delights in making bargains,_ Kyungsoo told himself. _There’s nothing she can offer without a price._

“A half-demon like you may be useful,” she smiled, her greenish eyes almost teasing, “and I may need a servant with abilities such as yours. Not only one who can sense the emotions of others, but one who can read thoughts, memories.

“What you think you can do now is nothing compared to what I can do for you should you allow me to awaken your full abilities, half-demon. Bow to me, and the power of the celestial robe can show you how to manipulate someone to feel where they did not feel before. You can control the entire world, with nothing but a touch.”

“I can do that?” Kyungsoo frowned. If she did grant him the use of the celestial robe, his abilities suddenly didn’t seem so bad.

 _All you’ve ever wanted_ , a voice whispered in his head. _All, and more._

Kyungsoo gripped his hand into a fist. “Give me everything I want? But serve _you?_ ”

He smashed his fist into the mirror, watching her expression contort in shock. The mirror burst into a million pieces, and the glow dissipated at once. Blood dripped all over the sink and the floor, but it brought him back down to earth with sharp clarity. Echoing through the walls was Kaguya’s laughter.

“An unwise decision, young warlock,” she said, from an unseen source. Kyungsoo’s head whipped around, expecting her to reappear at any moment.

“I will rule over your world, half-demon, the one that you so desperately try to protect. The world of humans was always meant for my kind, it is my right to reclaim what is mine. When I have the celestial robe, I will then destroy you before Jongin’s eyes, so you can watch him suffer…”

Kyungsoo didn’t bother waiting for her to finish her threat. He ran out of the bathroom, heading straight for the closet to put on his clothes hurriedly.

Dimly, he noted that his hand was not bleeding as he dressed, but the bits of broken mirror still lay on the bathroom floor. It was strange, but he wasn’t going to wait around to find out.

He got out of his apartment, grabbing his rarely-used car keys and ran barefoot down the emergency steps to the ground floor. He found his car, an old Toyota and got in. The engine was too old, which was why he didn’t use it because the car died while in use sometimes.

However, he twisted the key and after two failed attempts, the engine came alive. He floored the gas pedal, and drove to where Jongin had told him to meet.

Kyungsoo normally wasn’t a great driver, and he was worse now that he was in a hurry. He honked at every car, speeding all the way. He was afraid that Kaguya knew what they’d planned, and she’d try to kill Jongin before he managed to burn everything.

He felt at his pockets as he drove, and nearly cried in relief when he found his phone. He’d put on his slacks amidst the chaos, and dialled Jongin’s number. The call went through, to his relief.

“Hello?”

“Jongin! Jongin, she’s going to try to kill you!” Kyungsoo cried.  

“What? Kyungsoo, calm down—”

“Try to burn the items _now_! She wants to kill the both of us,” he shouted on the phone. Kyungsoo hung up, and returned his attention back to the road at the precise moment whips of light began to strike the ground, metres from his car. He twisted out of the way just in time as the whips made deep grooves into the road, slicing other cars into pieces.

“Shit,” Kyungsoo muttered. Rubble rained down on the roof of his car as other cars screeched to a stop by the side of the road. The princess clearly meant business.

He looked up at the sky. The ominous full moon was half-covered by a cloud. She had to be watching him somehow. If only Kyungsoo’s car could go faster…

 _Maybe it can_ , he thought, looking at his hands on the wheel. If what Kaguya said was true, maybe he didn’t need the celestial robe now to awaken his full abilities. He’d already touched it before. Perhaps all he needed was to reopen his mind.

Kyungsoo gripped the wheel harder. He stepped the pedal all the way down, going past eighty, where the engine would usually fizzle out. Kyungsoo could hear the engine groaning in protest. He pictured the car moving along anyway, running even though it would’ve long died.

To his incredulity, the engine obeyed. It didn’t choke and break down, despite the sudden whips of light attacking again. Kyungsoo swerved dangerously out of the way, burning rubber while making a turn. He concentrated with all his might and drove through Seoul, into a private road where trees lined both sides.

The path grew dark, and he flicked on the headlights, though he soon realized there was no need to. When he squinted, at the end of the road was an empty plot of land, surrounded by cherry blossom trees in full bloom, even though it was way past their season.

And if he looked closer, there was a large fire, burning out and lighting itself up again. Jongin.

Kyungsoo sensed it was an illusion, just like how Kaguya was able to invoke the full moon.

Kyungsoo put the car in park when he reached the clearing. The engine sputtered out when he got off, confirming his suspicions that he had forced the engine to life.  However, there was no time to ponder upon it as he raced through the trees over to where Jongin was, covered in flames as his hands were aimed at the ground, where the five items lay.

Jongin looked worn out, sweat dotting his forehead. “Jongin,” Kyungsoo called, slowing to a stop before him. He looked up, the fire ceasing to burn.

“Kyungsoo, I didn’t hear you arrive,” Jongin said, almost in a daze. He was panting too, clearly exerting a lot of strength. Kyungsoo glanced down at the items. The red robe didn’t even appear scorched.

“It’s okay. Do you need any help?” he asked. A wind blew through the trees, sending countless petals dancing through the air.

“No,” Jongin grunted, the palm of his hands bringing forth fire once more, “I’m just having a hard time burning this stuff. I’m glad I started earlier, otherwise Kaguya would’ve killed me already.”

“Glad to know I got her off your back long enough then,” Kyungsoo said grimly, “she tried to kill me on the way here.”

“Trust me, you don’t want to know what she did to my bathroom either,” Jongin muttered back darkly, shooting flames at the items. They lit up, but the fire didn’t seem to burn them at all. And the wind kept moving the flames away from Jongin’s focus. Kyungsoo frowned.

“Jongin, why isn’t it working?” Kyungsoo asked.

“I don’t know,” Jongin replied, “and this goddamned wind won’t let up even just for a minute.”

“I think it’s her,” Kyungsoo said, looking around for something to block the wind with. He spotted an old trashcan cover a few feet away, and ran to get it. Around him, the trees danced, as if mocking him. Kyungsoo felt the back of his neck prickling in fear.

He picked up the cover and went back to where Jongin was. Kyungsoo gestured for Jongin to stop while he stuck the cover into the ground, making sure it stood against the brisk wind. Jongin walked a half circle to face the wind instead, and when Kyungsoo stepped away, he blasted flames at the items again.

It worked; Kyungsoo saw the robe burning up first, turning black around the edges. Jongin was breathing hard beside him, but Kyungsoo prayed he would hold on till the very end. They were so close.

The other four items were melting in the heat of Jongin’s flames when the whips of light suddenly appeared again, whipping through the ground and the trees few feet away from them. Jongin tackled Kyungsoo to the ground seconds before one struck a tree beside them, falling over the items.

“Half-demon, you must be a fool to think the items can be destroyed,” Kaguya’s voice laughed.

“You’re the bigger fool if you think I won’t die trying,” Jongin said, getting to his feet and holding Kyungsoo close. The wind howled in response, sending goosebumps prickling all over them. Small branches were sent flying in their direction, to which Kyungsoo raised his arm over his face. They cut through his clothes, leaving shallow, red lines in his skin.

“Jongin, maybe you should use the celestial robe,” Kyungsoo shouted over the wind, “did you bring it like you said you would?”

Jongin didn’t look happy at that. Clearly, he didn’t want to associate himself with the items any more than he had to, but if the full moon wasn’t helping his abilities then he was going to need another boost.

“Use it!” Kyungsoo told him, “you have to burn everything before she kills us both!”

Jongin dug into his coat’s inner pocket hastily. He found the robe and threw his coat into the wind. He bunched the robe around his waist in untidy knots to latch it to himself. Kyungsoo gripped his arm tightly; the wind kept picking up, and it felt like they were about to be swept into the air like dry twigs soon.

“Stand back!” Jongin ordered, and Kyungsoo inched to stand directly behind him. Jongin blasted his flames at the tree covering the items, and it became clear as to why Kaguya wanted it so badly.

The tree, larger than a pickup truck, lit up in flames and became ashes in a matter of seconds, bits of blackened bark blowing away to reveal the items crushed into the ground beneath it. They were undamaged, even though the weight of tree should’ve broke the stone bowl, or the cowrie shell.

Jongin yelled in frustration, blasting more flames at the items. Kyungsoo was gripping him around the waist now, and felt Jongin’s powers rising inside him, burning him clean. But even then, Kyungsoo knew it was not enough.

_You’re not alone, Jongin._

And with the last of his energy, Kyungsoo _pushed_ at Jongin with his mind, giving him some of his magic, or whatever it was that always brimmed up inside of him. The heat of his flames began to grow exponentially. Jongin made a surprised noise in his throat, clearly not understanding what was happening. Kyungsoo wasn’t even sure what he was doing either, but he concentrated harder.

“Kyungsoo, they’re burning!” Jongin called, “stop what you’re doing, or we’ll burn too—”

A loud blast swallowed up the rest of Jongin’s sentence.

*

Jongin didn’t know what the fuck was going on. One minute, he couldn’t summon enough flames. The items weren’t even on fire, and he felt like he was close yet so far to his goal. Suddenly he’d felt Kyungsoo’s hands warming up around him. Then he felt a push in his mind and it was like his powers were amped up by a thousand, like someone throwing him up a wall so he could jump over.

The flames from his hands grew so fast he couldn’t even control them properly, but he knew it was working. The items began to burn right before his eyes, melting like molten lava.

“Kyungsoo, they’re burning!” Jongin had called, “stop whatever it is you’re doing, or we’ll burn too—”

And the blast took them right off their feet.

Jongin was sent crashing into the trees, where he felt his left arm twist painfully out of its socket. Light filled his vision, so bright he could still see it when he shut his eyes and turned away. Somewhere on his right, he heard Kyungsoo cry out in pain, before it was muffled by the wind around him, and the distant sound of someone screaming.

The wind went crazy, blowing in every direction till he felt sure he was stuck in the eye of a hurricane.

As quick as it’d happened, the blast abruptly dissipated. Jongin gripped the tree behind him till his palms hurt, feeling the wind pulling everything into the opposite direction. He cracked open an eye, looking over to where he thought Kyungsoo was.

He spotted him, his body half covered by a large tree branch. It had weighed him down thankfully, but he wasn’t moving at all. Dread gripped his heart, colder than ice.  

“Kyungsoo!” he shouted hoarsely. Jongin had to drag himself towards Kyungsoo like a clumsy worm, his free hand gripping the broken arm. It took forever, and it hurt his chest but he finally got to where Kyungsoo was and he kicked the tree branch off him roughly.

“Kyungsoo, Kyungsoo,” Jongin pulled him onto his lap frantically with one hand.

His eyes were shut, and there was some blood over his forehead. _No, no, he can’t die,_ Jongin thought, slapping Kyungsoo’s cheek lightly. Jongin wouldn’t be able to live with himself if another boy died because of him.

“Kyungsoo, please wake up,” Jongin whispered, feeling tears brimming over his eyes. He couldn’t tell if it was his imagination, but Kyungsoo’s body felt colder with every passing second.

At his wit’s end, Jongin undid the celestial robe from around his waist. He draped it over Kyungsoo, making sure it wrapped around his arm, his neck. He tried to make sure the celestial robe touched as much of his bare skin as possible. 

Was he breathing still? He couldn’t tell. All he could do now was hold Kyungsoo closer, shaking him gently in the hopes that he would wake up. Jongin had never felt despair like this since Sehun died, crushing his chest and making it hard to breathe. _Not again, not again, please_ , he prayed.

An agonizing minute later, Kyungsoo began to cough weakly. Jongin cried out incoherently, crushing him to his chest. He felt his tears pricking his eyes, not out of sadness but out of sheer relief. _He’s not dead._

Kyungsoo’s hands came up, and pushed at Jongin’s chest briefly. He groaned, and Jongin held away from his chest to let him breathe. His eyes opened, and he looked up at Jongin from under his lashes. “Did you do it?” he rasped, lifting a hand up to Jongin’s face.

“Yes,” Jongin nodded, one of his tears dropping on Kyungsoo’s cheek. Kaguya was finally gone and out of their lives. She would remain sealed forevermore. Kyungsoo smiled gently, wiping at his eye.

“So why are you crying?” he asked softly. Jongin couldn’t even explain it in words. He just took Kyungsoo’s hand and kissed it, shutting his eyes. They’d survived. Somehow, they were alive. Kyungsoo wasn’t dead and lifeless in his arms. He was hurt, but he would live.

Kyungsoo sat up gingerly, groaning as he held his head. His hand came away with blood and Jongin held him carefully, afraid Kyungsoo would faint if he didn’t.

“Oh God, your arm,” Kyungsoo gasped, when he noticed the way Jongin held his left arm away from his body. It was twisted in the wrong way, and was almost gruesome to look at now that Jongin paid attention. Kyungsoo reached to touch it, and Jongin pulled away with a wince.

“Don’t. I’ll be fine once Luhan fixes me up,” Jongin said, shaking his head.

Pouting, Kyungsoo ran an anxious hand over the rest of Jongin, tracing around the superficial wounds that decorated his other arm, his shoulders, his chest… Kyungsoo pursed his lips at all of them. “You’re hurt pretty badly. We’re gonna have to stop by a hospital or something soon.”

“ _You_ might have a concussion. You should be more worried about yourself,” Jongin replied.

“I think not, Jongin,” Kyungsoo replied, tugging on Jongin’s fringe. He frowned at first, then noticed something off. His hair was black, not silver. Their surroundings had grown considerably darker too. The cherry blossoms on the trees that had appeared previously had now disappeared. He’d only failed to notice earlier when he was panicking over Kyungsoo.

 “You’re human,” Kyungsoo breathed, looking at Jongin in quiet awe. Jongin nodded.

“I am. For the night anyway,” Jongin shrugged.  

“You’ll never be a real warlock now,” Kyungsoo said, almost regretfully.

He looked sorry for Jongin but for once, Jongin didn’t feel sorry. He was just glad that Kyungsoo was here, alive and well. It was more than he could ever ask for, and sometimes it was the little things that mattered.

“I don’t think I need to be a real warlock if I have you,” Jongin whispered. Kyungsoo chuckled silently, running his hand through Jongin’s black hair. A breeze blew through the trees.

Up in the sky, not a sliver of the moon could be seen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Swallows need sunlight. I played myself when i wrote this and checked the facts after. They also do not nest in swamps.... i think.  
> 2\. Inspired heavily by Taketori Monogatari; not the anime movie, but the real legend itself. However, the story here deviates as according to plot of Inuyasha: The Castle Beyond the Looking Glass. I barely stopped short of bringing in Miroku and Sango tbh. Would've thrown in Sesshomaru if this didn't take longer than it should have. If you're interested, here's a simplified version of the story: http://www.sacred-texts.com/shi/jft2/jft208.htm  
> 3\. There is some elements of Bride of the Water God in Sekai's back story. Not the k-drama, but the orginal manhwa. Check it out if you haven't!  
> 4\. The concept of warlocks here is similar to that of the ones in the Mortal Instruments. I changed a few facts here and there, but overall it is the same.  
> 5\. Lastly, i have all but blown my cover by explaining all of this, happy guessing!


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